Meetings in Sewers
by Tropicwhale
Summary: A chance meeting in the sewers of Paris reunites Xander and Spike. They must deal with each other, the death of loved ones, & mini-slayers as they search for a book that has the power to destroy the magical world. Their relationship is redefined. SLASH
1. Meetings in Sewers

**_Meetings in Sewers_**

**_By: Tropicwhale_**

_**Disclaimer**_: Don't Own

_**Warnings**_: Slash! The "F" word!

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**Chapter One**:  
_Meetings in Sewers_

So there are some really great things about being a vampire. Immortality for one, eternal beauty for another (although I have seen some ugly vampires in my day, let me tell you), and enhanced senses. The thing is that last can be a bit of a curse sometimes. Take the sense of smell. Being able to smell prey a hundred yards off is a good thing. Hunting for survival and all that rot. Fear smells really good, spicy. Arousal is even better, all sweet like honey. But when you're in sewers you curse the day that you turned. Its worst than having a soul! And not just any sewers, oh no…because most sewers are rain runoffs and not that bad as long as you don't get caught in one after a rainstorm in, lets say, New York? Then it's bad. But not bad as sewers in Paris, France. It smells rancid down here. Honest! Take a hundred dead rodents and let them rot for about a week and about three hundred galleons of blu cheese and then you'll have an idea of what a hundredths of what I'm smelling right now.

So you'll probably wondering, 'Okay, Spike. If it smells so bad why the bloody hell did you go down there in the first place?' Well it's not like I did it by choice. I'm hiding. 'Hiding from what? You're a champion of Good. Ex-Big Bad. What can possible scare you?' Two words mate. Xander Harris. Are you laughing at me? Well bugger off! You'd be hiding in the sewers too if you, you know, last saw him in a fight to save the world from the First Evil and burst into a shining ray of sunshine and even though you came back, first as Casper (but without the friendliness, I would like to think I was completely unfriendly to the Great Broody Poof) and then as a real boy-vamp, he as well as the woman you're madly in love with thinks your still, you know, dust. So never mind the fact that you came to Paris because you're on a mission from your Sire, if you see someone whose under the impression you're not walking around the living you'd hide. And if the only place you can hide is the bloody sewers you do it! My only hope is he didn't follow me. The only reason I came on this mission is because Angel's contact in the Watchers' Council (read Andrew) said that the whole old Sunnyhell gang was in Scotland. He's suppose to be freezing his bollocks off in the bloody highlands what the fuck is he doing in Paris? "I think I saw it come down here, girls." Bollocks. He followed me and with a whole troupe of slayers by the feel of it.

"Ew. It stinks down here." A girl's voice said. Yeah bit, you should try it from my side.

"It's a sewer, Patricia. It's suppose to." Another one echoed off the concrete walls. I moved forward trying to avoid them while trying to figure out how many there are. I can hear Xander's steel toed boots echo the loudest. And there's….one…two….three…four chits with him by the sound of it. And all of them chattery little blighters. Doesn't Buffy teach them anything about being stealthy? The whole world could go to hell and they wouldn't notice over all the racket they cause.

"I think a saw a swish of a cape around that turn up there." It's a bloody trench coat you no-nothing twit! I'm not a complete ponce like Dracula. I don't wear a bloody fucking cape!

"No it looked more like a trench coat." Xander spoke up. Good job mate! Oh wait, I'm suppose to be running away from the whelp. "You can tell by the swing. A cape would have more of a flair." Ha! "Of course, they're both overly dramatic and as the British would say 'Just a tad bit poncy'." The girls giggled and I fumed. I am not a ponce! I'm not like Angel or Dracula. I won my trench coat…well not this one…this one I got from an Italian bit but the original was a trophy of battle, yeah? And where does he get off making fun of my accent! Blighter can go rot for all I care. It was a bad imitation anyway. I mean honestly-OMPH! I got tackled. Huh. I react. Sliding into game face and throwing the bit into the wall. I kicked out with my left foot and sent the second girl flying. I would have felt guilty but hey! It was self-defense! Xander was standing back and shouting out orders to "Regroup!" and "Aim for the heart!" I block the crossbow bolt with my hand. I grab the next girl's fist and thwart out of the way as she throws it and slam her into the last slayer. Wow, no wonder Xander was with them. These girls are beginners. I slid out of game face cackling how I beat up a bunch of teenaged girls. Hey, I have a soul and am one of the good guys but I can still cackle at the misfortune of others. I'm a vampire. Gotta live up to the name and all. Besides I knocked them out and didn't cause any real damage anyway! I totally forgot that Xander was standing right there until he said, and I quote, "Spike?" I turn to fully face him attempting to look innocent. That, by the way, is extremely difficult when I am surrounded by knocked out teenaged girls. It was my looks that knocked them out, Xander, I swear. I smile a little at the internal joke still attempting to look innocent. "You're suppose to be dust."

"And you're supposed to be in Scotland. What the bloody hell are you doing here anyway?" I snarked back quickly. Like I'm going to let him have the advantage in this conversation. Not bloody likely!

"Well I was train-HEY that's my line! You're suppose to be a dust bunny back in the Crater-formerly-known-as-Sunnydale. I think I deserve to ask the questions here!"

"Do you really? Sorry, all out of answers today come back tomorrow. Same Bat hour, same Bat channel." Xander giggled at the pop culture reference like I knew he would and I started to walk off. He stopped me.

"Hey wait! I. . .see that you perfected the broody trench coat swish turn. Now you're just like Deadboy!" I spun back.

"Oi! I am nothing like Neanderthal-brow!" I calmed down. "Look you should deal with your mini-slayers. I was never here. Don't tell Buffy." I turn around again.

"Wait!" I rolled my eyes to the roof of the sewer. Why me? What did I ever do wrong? I only killed and tortured a couple of hundred thousand. It wasn't fair that I was tortured with the boy. I turned around, again. If I kept doing that I'd get dizzy. I'm not even sure if vampires can get dizzy but I'm not really wanting to try it out, yeah?

"What?"

"You could at least help me wake them up! You knocked them out in the first place." Bugger the bloody Queen of England, he was right. But hell if I'd tell him that though.

"I didn't hit them that hard. Not my fault they don't make slayers like they used to. Besides they attacked me."

"That was because they didn't know who you were. I mean how could they-? What with you going all poof! And everything. And besides how was I suppose to know who I was sending them after for the same reason, anyway? And the least you could do, Spike, is help me wake them up so that we can go back to our safehouse and stuff." I blinked. I blinked a second time for good measure. Xander and Willow could always amaze me with their breath control and here I thought that only vamps didn't have to breath. "Uh please? I mean since you're a good guy and everything. And good guys help out those who need it. I need it. In the sense that I need you to help me out. Uh-I didn't mean that as an euphuism because I don't need you for that. I'm okay that department but I do need your help waking up the girls so could you please help me Spike?" Ladies and gentlemen, the one and only Xander-babble brought you by Xander Harris, the original provider of Xander-babble. Remember if it isn't Harris it's not really Xander. Oh bloody hell now he's got me doing it!

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_**Author After Notes**_: Spike popped into my head and started ranting. I just wrote down what he was saying.

So if you want me to continue review!

TBC


	2. Conversations in Kitchens

**_Meetings in Sewers_**

_**By: Tropicwhale**_

**_Disclaimer_**: Don't Own

**_Warnings_**: Slash! The "F" word!

**_Dedicated to_**: twice-as-evil-as-you121212 who reviewed and asked for more.

**_Author Notes_**: There won't be swoosh-bang-sex! In this fic until a relationship is re-established between the two characters. I'm a take it slow and make sure everyone is happy type of writer. And this fic is fed by reviews. Review, tell your friends, tell your friends to review. Tell me to write more or fix stuff or to go to hell. This chapter is in third-person…something, can't remember the tense, because the Spike-that-lives-my-head isn't ranting. And there is no Xander in my head, thank god, goddess, and any other deity that will listen. Also? I realized that there was an continuity issue with this chapter and thus reloaded it to fix it

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**Chapter Two:**  
_Coversations in Kitchens_

Spike sat on a bar stool. Spike sat on the bar stool and glared. Spike sat on the bar stool and glared at one Alexander Lavelle Harris. Spike sat on the bar stool and glared at one Alexander Lavelle Harris and growled. Unfortunately, Xander was unaffected as his back was turned. "Stop growling, Spike." Oh scratch that last statement.

"You can't keep me here." The vampire growled out. They were in the safehouse and Xander had sent the four slayers; Patricia, Emma, Kenya, and Alex to bed under the pretense that they had training early in the morning. This maneuver left Spike alone with Xander in the downstairs kitchen. Something Spike really disliked. Why did he dislike it? That's easy, he wasn't allowed to leave. It was bloody L.A as a ghost or Sunnydale chipped all over again! Spike growled. He really needed to stop getting involved with the white hats. But why can't Spike leave? It's only _Xander _keeping him here, Spike's a vampire, somewhat of an uneven battle, yeah? Easy win on Spike's half. Well, apparently _Willow_ had gone around the world setting up the Slayer safehouses with lots of spells and wards and stuff. Spells such as un-detection and a nifty little spell that keeps Spike from leaving if the people in the safehouse don't want him to. It was in place in case the Slayers captured a vampire or demon that they needed to question. Xander just happened to know this when he asked Spike to help bring the girls back to the house from the sewers. And Spike, in a incredibility poncy move, agreed to help. So thus Spike growled. He really should know better. He was an one hundred fifty year old master vampire, well, one hundred twenty-seven but who was going to yell at him if he rounded his age up a decade or three? He growled again as Xander turned around and placed a mug of hot pig's blood (ugh!) in front of him.

"Wanna bet? And stop growling."

"Make me." Spike snarked childishly but still accepted the mug. He was hungry after all. Running from a certain someone made him miss his supper. That always did make him a tad bit cranky.

"How are you alive?"

"Not alive, twit."

"Fine, how are you…un-alive?"

"Un-alive?" Spike sneered. "Is that honestly the best you can do? _No wonder_ you're on beginner babysitting duty. The other Scoobies must have kicked you out for bad-"

"Spike answer my question."

"What question?"

"How are you not dust?"

"Don't know."

"Spike!" Xander sounded exasperated, he looked exasperated. Spike attempted to look innocent. It failed.

"No honestly, pet, I don't know. I didn't ask to come back but I did." Spike gulped down some blood to avoid Xander's eye. Of course Spike wasn't going to tell Xander everything. He didn't need to know. Spike hadn't lasted this long by letting his enemies know all his secrets. Grant you, technically he hadn't last this long without being experimented on, used, chipped, ghosted, souled, tortured, dusted, set afire, forced to live with the whelp, forced to go against his nature as a bloodsucking fiend, beaten, damned, sent to hell and back, had a pipe organ dropped on him…he was literally flattened by a piano! someone in charge of his life had a twisted sense of humor how else does one explain the people in his life that have names like 'Xander' and 'Buffy' who use words like "Grrr-y" to describe a vampire's true face? but that is beside the point which is that he was literally flattened by a piano!... rejected a million times over by the women in his life, forced to live with the whelp; that last bears repeating because that basement stank! Stank like French sewer systems!

The point being, Xander didn't need to know the whole story. Nor did Spike need to tell him. It just wasn't necessary. It wasn't necessary like it was necessary that Spike get out of the safe house, get the bloody _book_ he was sent to Paris to pick up and get back to L.A. That was necessary. Not playing twenty bloody questions with the whelp. "Fine, why are you in Paris?"

"Why are _you_ in Paris?"

"Don't repeat what I say and answer the question, Spike!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you don't scare me." And that shocked Xander into silence. Spike could see the thoughts running through Harris' head. Was the reason Spike helped them out at first, right after he got chipped, was because he was afraid? Spike, the Big Bad, afraid? And now he wouldn't answer Xander's questions because, hey, why would _Spike _be afraid of the donut boy? This, of course, was complete and utter bull but Spike found it amusing to allow Xander to think that way. Let the little happy meal think that Spike had been less than he was. It was a way out. The bloody white hat would have to let him go out of guilt for the way he treated Spike for those years.

"Oh and what does scare you, Spike?" Yep that's right, Xander, play off the moment with sarcasm.

"Global Warming." The vampire deadpanned. "Think about it. More UV rays." Xander looked wide-eyed and innocent for all of three seconds before Spike tilted his head down, looked up, and smiled. That smile that said 'look I'm sweet and shy under this bad-boy swagger, trust me'. The smile that had most girls and some boys sigh in appreciation and lust. The smile that told Xander 'I was joking'. Xander laughed. Spike smiled some more and watched as the white knight relaxed. "Look, mate, you seriously need to let me go and not tell Buffy I'm back."

"What? Why?" Xander was back on alert but this time it was on Spike's terms.

"Because, mate, I need her to have that last good memory of me. I can't have died a glorious world-saving death just to show up a few months later in France. I need to be the hero in her eyes and I can't do that if I'm still alive. Or un-alive, whichever. And you need to let me go because I'm only here on a mission. I'll disappear and you'll never see me again."

"Spike-"

"Xander, please." That was all it took. Xander would let him go. He wouldn't tell Buffy that Spike survived just like Andrew hadn't told. Spike looked down at his cup of pig's blood. It had congealed and thus was completely undrinkable. He snorted in disgust and suddenly felt very, very old. Every one of his one hundred fifty years as human/vampire/ghost/vampire bore down him as a wave of guilt engulfed him to trick his friend in this manner. He looked up. Xander was staring at him with one big whiskey-brown eye. It took Spike a second to realize that Xander was, in fact, leaning forward towards Spike across the counter they were sitting at. The strange thought 'Is Xander Harris about to kiss me?' flashed across Spike's brain moments before Xander leaned in close to Spike's ear to whisper.

"The sun's almost up. You can stay here for today and help train the girls. You can have the couch. And Spike? I've lived with you. Your tricks won't work on me. Nice try." And with that Xander disappeared out of the kitchen turning off the lights as he went, leaving Spike to clean up and find the couch in darkness. Spike was still trying to figure out where the bloody hell his plan went wrong.

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Hehe, Spike's plans never work...but he's still sooooo cute! Review! feed the fic

TBC?


	3. Musings in Beds

**_Meetings in Sewers_**

**_By: Tropicwhale_**

**_Disclaimer_**: Don't Own

**_Warnings_**: Slash! Bad Words! Masturbation! Turn back now if that squicks you!

**_Dedicated to_**: twice-as-evil-as-you121212 who reviewed and asked for more.

**_Author Notes_**: Okay so here's avoidance! (me from my school-work hehe and Xander from well everything…bastard started babbling in my cerebral cortex and won't stop! I suppose that is what I get for saying I would never write from Xander's point of view. And in this chapter denial, masturbation, and Xander-babble! Because everyone seems to enjoy that for some strange reason.

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**Chapter Three:  
**_Musings in Bed_

Spike's back. The bleached blonde menace returned…from the dead. Scoobies tended to do that…a lot. So I am not surprised. Really I'm not. Ah who am I kidding? Spike's back and I'm in shock. The hair, the eyebrow, the expressive blue eyes, everything below that point is back. Everything below that point is classified as everything below that point because it is in fact dangerous territory and the Xan-man is the king of denial. Me and Cleopatra! I don't need to contemplate the fact that Spike exists below the line of his nose because the line of that nose leads to Spike's mouth which is wide and also expressive and can say things that shouldn't be innuendo-laden but are innuendo-laden because it is, in fact, Spike who says them. A mouth that gives rare real smiles, smiles that have the possibility of possibly maybe convincing straight boys who are perfectly happy being straight to consider the other options such as the idea of what else that mouth is capable of. Which leads to all thoughts groiny! And groiny thoughts and Spike thoughts should never intersect, at all, ever. Thus the denial! Ah, Xander-logic. Gotta love it!

But really I'm glad he's back. Because Spike and I came to an understanding in those final months of Sunnydale. He saved my one eye. I'd rather be Captain Nick Fury then Destiny. Granted I'd rather have both eyes but I'm not choosy. Especially after that fight. Spike and I bonded against Andrew, the First, and the overdose of Potential estrogen, in that order. And if that bond had lead to something more…alright I would have freaked but we weren't like that. Spike was into Buffy and I was into Anya. And th-th-that's all, folks. We were two war-buddies facing off against the First, all those women, plus _Andrew_. Nothing more!

But, I'll admit I wouldn't of minded more. I wouldn't of minded having someone to cuddle up to. Anya was great but there was a lack of cuddles. She would cuddle in an attempt to be more 'human girl' but she was about as into it as most normal men. Faith was a "fucked-you-now-buh-bye" type girl. Cordelia cuddled. She fit into the hollow of my arm when we were at the movies or on a couch somewhere. I liked that, missed that. Anya…I loved Anya…still love Anya but she didn't cuddle like Cordy did. Spike's about Cordelia's height, a couple of inches taller but still…and he's all "I'm so into the women I'm in love with that I'd do anything for them" which is so annoying by the way but logically it means he probably was-is a cuddler. He has the look of a guy who loves to cuddle but doesn't like to have the information spread around. Spike's a secret cuddler, that's right….GAH!! WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT SPIKE'S CUDDLING HABITS?!

Stupid Spike and his stupid hair and stupid eyebrows and stupid expressive eyes and stupid expressive mouth and stupid arms that probably love to cuddle and stupid thoughts that turn groiny at the slightest hint of Spike's arms and mouth and hands and eyes and hair and body and….WOAH stopping that train of thought right there; pull up to the station, the Xan-man's getting off….of that train of thought. Not that I'm getting off on the thought of Spike … because I'm straight and happy to be straight. I'm a happy straight man that is happy to be straight and whose thoughts don't turn groiny when thinking about Spike's body parts and gets off on that sort of stuff. Right? I groan into my pillow. Great and now I have the need to verbalize "I'm soo screwed."

I'm getting a little hard thinking about Spike. Just a little. He's a little girly. What with the hair care and the clothes and the leather and the secretive cuddling! Yup, that's it! I'm happy that my girly war-buddy is back from the errr…dust! And it's been slow for the past couple of years in that department and well, little Xan is a little confused. Not that little Xan is little. He's average size. Promise! My hand sneaks down under the covers and in my boxers. I massage the hardness that was starting there. I grunted into my forearm which is pressed into the pillow and grabbed my dick more firmly. Quicker then I expected I felt my balls begin to ache. I rolled over and grabbed tissues from the cardboard box that was sitting on the end table. I started to jerk off in earnest. I came in the tissues arching off the bed with a groan to the thought of Spike jerking me off. I tossed the tissues away and came back to myself with a heaping helping of shame. I just find out that Spike's back from the dust and I jerk off to thoughts of him. I am such a bad person some times.

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_**Author After Notes**_: Ha-ha! I fixed it! Semester's over so I'll be updating more soon.

Xander-babble. A little funny, a little angsty, and a little sexual and more than a little lame. I don't normally write masturbation scenes and also I attempted to keep it as under M rating as I could. Sorry if I failed. Hopefully the next chapter will be about the next day. Spike-viewpoint this time around and Xander's classic dealing technique, avoidance. So yeah review, help me with my technique please!

Review/read (hopefully not in that order)

TBC


	4. Fights with Slayers

**_Meetings in Sewers_**

**_By: Tropicwhale_**

**_Disclaimer_**: I do not look like Joss Whedon, sound like Joss Whedon, nor have any claim to any ideas that Joss Whedon has, ergo……………………….. NOT MINE!!

_**Warnings**_: Slash! Bad Words! Masturbation! Turn back now if that squicks you!

**_This chapter is Dedicated to_**: Takaouto who gave me constructive criticism (rare and valuable) and promised her first born if I updated. This tickled me pink. Sorry it's a bit late love…I had finals.

**_Author Notes_**: Okay so here's Denial and Spike! Err. . . Xander and Spike. Same difference. . . . . . . .love people who review.

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**_Chapter Four_**:  
_Fights with Slayers_

Harris was acting funny. He was acting really funny. Funnier than usual. He smiled at me then blushed and made up some half-assed excuse that he had to go shopping for blood and milk. _Blagch_! Gross combination that. I much prefer Wheatabees and blood or blood and French fries. Don't make a face, its delicious. Aw, you know you missed me and the weird shit I add to my pig's blood to make it taste…you know…not disgusting. Also I'm pretty. Scratch that I'm drop-undead gorgeous, I think. No reflection and all but judging by the reactions of various individuals when I smile…I grin at the slayers each in turn, they all go a little weak at the knees in their own way…Oh yeah I'm gorgeous. I let the smile melt away and stare at the four slayers in the padded practice room, assessing them. They stared back at me with curiosity and more than a little fear. The girl who I now know is Patricia raised her hand. I was always good with names, I just choose not to use them. "Wot?" I glared at her. She glared back. Good. A slayer ought to have fire. I smirked. She blushed. I bit my lip and raised my eyebrows. "What you want, slayer?"

"Uh-um-uh." Aw, she's shy. That's cute.

"Spit it out."

"She wants to know if you're really Spike." Emma spoke for her. Bossy chit that one.

"Yeah I am. What of it?"

"You are suppose to be dust." Kenya spoke up. Her voice was deliberate and slow.

"Yeah? And you're probably not supposed to be a slayer. What's your point?"

"How are you not dust?" Alex, a small red-head bit, asked.

"Magic." I growled.

"What sort of magic?" She asked.

"The magical kind." I stared her down, leaving no doubt in their little minds that I didn't want to talk about it. After all there was no garrantee that they wouldn't tell Xander. Patricia raised her hand again.

"Wot?"

"Were-were you and Mr. Xander lovers?" I stared at her incredulously. I blinked. I blinked again for good measure and stared some more. Did she just asked what I think she just asked?

"WHAT? Where the bloody hell did you get that barmy idea?"

"Well, you argue like my dads, you smile at each other then Mr. Xander blushes and you guys have history that goes way back to Sunnydale so I figured. . ." She petered off.

"We-"

"Patricia, you really shouldn't ask things like that." Emma scolded her. "It's inappropriate."

"Yeah. Besides, Xander's straight. He's dating that Renee chit back in Scotland." Alex quipped in. "Spike might be gay but not Xander."

"Whoa, hold up. I'm not gay."

"I said might be." Alex said.

"I used to sleep with Buffy. I'm into women. Trust me." Bloody hell, the things these mini-slayers could come up with. But it if you really want to know all vampires are androgynous, we don't really care who we sleep with; male, female, tenticled, it doesn't matter as long as it gets the job done, if you know what I mean. But Xander was off-limits because it would freak him out if he discovered what these bits were thinking. "I don't do men."

"Well you give off a gay vibe. Must be the hair and all the leather." Alex replied. I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back onto my heels and sucked in my cheeks. "Sorry my mistake."

"You are protesting this a little too much, vampire." Kenya said. I turned to her and made eye contact. "Nevermind."

"So Harris wants me to train you lot up. You mind me or I'll kick your collective asses. Understand me?"

"Sir, yes, sir." They chorused. Ooo, shiver of power there. Spike, the ex-Big Bad Slayer of Slayers, champion of the Light, and leader of a personal army of slayers. I like the sound of that. It's a nice title. Alright enough daydreaming, Spike, back to work.

"Good. Alright, pair up. So let's see what you got." And thus began an unfair fight. Kenya paired up against Alex and Emma went against Patricia and the two bigger girls than proceeded to beat up the two smaller ones. "Hold." They stopped. "Switch partners You" I point to Kenya "pair up with you" I point to Emma. "And you two together" I pair off Alex with Patricia. "Now fight" They did. Emma and Kenya slowed down, started planning attacks before moving. Alex and Patricia ended up attempting to bitch slap the other. It was clear that all four were afraid of their abilities as slayers. "Alright, hold again. This is pathetic." Patricia and Alex looked horrified. "You're all are afraid. And don't try and deny it. Vamps and other baddies can smell fear. It's all spicy." Kenya looked very alarmed. "You can't be afraid of getting hurt or hurting your partner. All four of you can take the damage. Kenya front and center, love." Kenya stepped up, a slight blush on her dark cheeks. I went to attack her. A simple punch to the stomach and she deflected it with ease but she left her flank open and I took her down. "Stay boxed up a little more. You leave huge gapingholes in your defense. Buffy never does that and neither did the two slayers that I killed which made it a challenge, yeah? You need to force me to go on the defensive. Hit with all your force. Trust me when I say that it'll make it easier on you." Kenya nodded and I helped her up. She shot a punch to my gut that actually bent me over. "Oomph! Good. Next. Emma." Emma strode up and attempted a snap kick while I was still bent over. I straightened and grabbed her ankle and flipped her across the room. "Nice attempt at a sneak attack but you underestimate your opponent and arrogance like that will get you dead. Kenya, my stomach still hurts, really good job." Kenya grinned and Emma glared daggers at me. Alex stepped up. She traversed to move around me and I plowed into her or rather attempted to. She slipped to the side, out of my way, and threw a kick at my side forcing me back. Clever. "Clever girl." Alex smiled and moved back. I moved forward. She moved to my side and attempted the same trick. I saw it coming and caught the foot. I smirked at her, she smirked back and snapped her other leg up…into my face, ow. It made me let go. She rushed me and I grabbed her and threw her to the floor. "Good. Fantastic footwork, love."

"But…." Alex prompted. I smiled.

"You rely too heavily on the same two moves and you shouldn't rush people. You're small and your momentum will be used against you."

"You rushed Kenya." She pointed out.

"I did. But I'm bigger than her. It would have hurt her more."

"Oh. Okay." I nodded and turned to Patricia. She gulped but stepped up to the plate. She attempted to circle around me. I followed the movement. She shifted back a little bit. So did I.

"Attack him, Patricia!" Emma shouted. Patricia flinched and lost concentration. I rushed her. She returned to the moment and moved out of my way completely except her foot. I tripped. Out of the corner of my eye, as I stumble, I see her twist and jump. Her foot slams into the small of my back and sends me down. I roll out of the way as she punches at my head but she follows the movement and slams her knee onto my throat. If I needed to breath I would be suffocating right then. She places her fist on my chest, above my heart. The room goes silent.

"Dust." I said. "I'd be dust right now if we were going at it for real." Patricia sweeps her brown hair out of her eyes and gives a watery grin. "Good job, Patricia. Really." Her grin firms a little more. "Now let me up." She does and helps me up. "Now that is what a slayer is capable of. You need to adapt, be able to ignore distractions-" I glare at Emma who glares right back. That one will be dead in a few months. She's just too arrogant to survive for very long. "and always be moving. Good job. I want beer, anyone up for a pint?"

"Xander says we're not allowed to leave the safe house without him." Emma said. I smirk.

"You can blame it on me."

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TBC ?(with reviews? And lolcats? )


	5. Conversations with Not Dead People

**_Meetings in Sewers_**

**_By: Tropicwhale_**

**_Disclaimer:_**I am not the following people; Joss Whedon, James Marsters, or Nicholas Brendon. Ergo, I do not own the main characters of this fic although the four slayers are mine no matter how much I do not want them. I was the fan cheering on the bad guys especially if they were named Darla, Angelus, Drusilla, Spike or Glory because at that point the heroes were starting to annoy me. I love these characters but do not own them.

**_Warnings_**: SLASH! Bad Language! Rage! The beginning of the angst.

**_This Chapter is Dedicated to_**: my best friend who just turned 21 but hates BVS so she will never know about this.

**_Author Notes_**: A Xander freak-out is always fun especially when he's attempting to ignore Spike's sexy, sexy nature. I love torturing Harris, don't you? Also an new addition: Chapter titles and I found the formatting bar, yay!! I also have this fic planned out to Chapter 20 so review and you will definitely receive.

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**Chapter Five:  
**_Conversations with Not Dead People_

I'm officially freaking out. Where the heck is my squad? And my vampire? Not that he's my vampire, he's his own person. But technically he can't come and go as he pleases. That is against the spells that Willow put on the safehouse so where the heck is Spike and my slayers? After all the trouble I went through to get him human blood (reject stuff from the Red Cross, you know, with Hepatitis and stuff) and decent Irish whiskey so that we could celebrate his not being dust. I am so going to _re_kill him when I find him. Wait. What was that?

"_Fifteen vamps on a slayer's chest, yo ho ho and a bit of fear. Drank her down and dusted the rest, yo ho ho and a bit of fear_" Someone was singing. Someone who was male and British was singing. Loudly and off key. I heard the front door open then close and Patricia's voice saying

"Shush Spike, you'll wake the neighbors"

"And they'll blame it on some drunken foreigner who can't sing which, m'dear, is only half true. I can, in fact, sing. Just don't feel like it at the mo', yeah?" I walk into the forayer and glare at my charges. "Oi Whelp! Where the bloody 'ell have you been all day?" Spike asked as he leaned heavily on Alex and Patricia with a half empty bottle of whiskey hanging precariously in his fingertips.

"I could ask you all the same question."

"I know that!" Spike straightened, much to the obvious relief of both Alex and Patricia. "Why ya think I beat ya at the punch? Lighten up, Harris! Just took the ladies out for a bit of a drink. They have potential…potential with a little p, of course, not the big P because they are, in fact, Slayers. Wait, would that be slayers with a big S or a little s because when there was only one Slayer it was the big S but now there's lots so little s, yeah? Wait, what was I talking about? Dammit Harris, you've gone and got me babbling. I don't babble. I'm too-uh-" Spike had an adorable look of confusion on his face as he scratched his head with the hand with the bottle in it as he attempt to get his brain to figure out what adjective he was "Too" of to babble.

Wait, did I just call Spike adorable? Dammit, Stupid Spike and his stupid hair and stupid eyebrow and stupid nose and stupid mouth and stupid adorable dumb look ….wait not adorable just dumb, yep, Spike's dumb.

"Uh-too-too -uh-hey help me out here, precious…" Spike turned and looked at Kenya who blinked at him.

"Too Spike?" She offered.

"YEAH!" Spike's eyes lit up. He grinned and bounced a little. Okay so he's adorable, like a three year old in a candy store is adorable. "I'm too Spike to babble, you got that?" He pointed at me and glared which probably would have had more of an effect if he didn't stumble and waver.

"Yeah, whatever, Spike. Where the heck were you guys?" I directed the question at Emma who was designated squad leader.

"He decided we did well enough in a five minute training session that we needed a drink. I am still surprised that he managed to find a bar that sold alcohol at 8 in the morning. Grant you, it was a demon bar." That pissed me off a little but it was an unsurprised pissed off. Spike _would_take a group of teenaged girls to a demon bar at 8 in the morning so that he could get drunk off his undead ass.

"That was a training exercise in observation!" Spike defended himself. "Ya need to learn to observe the demons in your area without tryin'. Didn't I explain that?"

"Not exactly, no." Kenya said.

"You were too busy doing shots." Emma added.

"Oh. S'rry bout that then. We'll have at go back and I'll explain everything more clearly." I rolled my eyes. Spike was just too….Spike sometimes.

"No, every one of you is staying right where you are." I commanded. "Emma, Patricia, Kenya, and Alex, I am really disappointed in you girls." I said in my best Giles voice. "You know the rules about leaving the safehouse without permission especially with Twilight's goons out there."

"Ooo, scary watcher voice." Spike snarked.

"I'm not a watcher. I just…" I kinda shut-up. There was no way I was finishing that sentence in front of Spike. He'd just would twist it into his own purposes.

"Watch out for the slayers under your care?" See what I mean? Spike chuckled evilly. "See what I mean, mate? You're a bloody Watcher! Watch out now or you'll be wearing tweed and polishing a monocle in no time!" He fell backwards into the rest of the house, giggling like the psycho that he is. The girls and I followed him. He went straight for the refrigerator and pulled out a packet of blood. He stopped then and stared at the label. "Pos A? Huh."

"What's wrong, Spike?" I asked half-exasperated. He looked up at me with clear confusion written on his face.

"You got me the good stuff."

"Well not the really good stuff…it's reject stuff from the Red Cross. We have a contact in there so it wasn't any trouble." I half-babbled. "Really, because face it, Bleached Wonder, you're not worth it." Spike smiled one of those rare real smiles. Shit.

"Say what you want, mate, but in my book actions always spoke louder than words." Spike seemed to have forgotten about our audience of slayers.

"See?" Patricia whispered to Emma. "That's why I had to ask."

"Shut-up, Patricia" Emma whispered back. I half-wondered what they were talking about when Spike's smile widened into a smirk. Panic fled through my mind. I knew that look. That was a look that meant Spike was about to say something snarky and sarcastic and likely a joke at my expense. Spike opened his mouth wider to inhale deeply. I had to cut him off.

"So, Billy Idol wannabe, are you going to stand in front of the open fridge all day or what?" Spike shut his mouth and the refrigerator and went to get a mug. Once he went through the ritual of warming up his blood he turned back to face me with that smirk plastered back on his face. Did I ever mention that I hate Spike's smirk? Because that should bear mentioning. It always means trouble, big trouble, little trouble, it really doesn't matter because it means trouble.

"Sorry, lover, forgot how you like to keep a clean house." And then Spike kissed me. On the lips. I hear the gasps and whimpers of the girls behind me and I have half a second to feel embarrassed before Spike, that insufferable bleached blond of a undead menace, decides it's a good idea to stick his tongue in my mouth. Ooo, that feels really good. Wait no! I'm dating Renee. I like Renee and Anya, and Cordelia, and Faith and Buffy and Willow and people that have a pulse and vaginas! Spike grabbed my face in his hands. His hands felt like ice, like they had bad circulation. God, Goddess, Mary and Joseph Stalin, he's a good kisser. Like insanely good. Where did he learn to kiss like that? Ooo, do that again…suddenly the microwave pinged. Spike was suddenly gone and back across the kitchen to retrieve his dinner. Wait did that actually happen? Spike gave me a confused little look and said "You alright there mate?"

"Uh?" Wow that was intelligent, Harris. Way to go. Spike gave me a little half-smile.

"You alright there, mate? Looks like you went off to daydreamland there for a mo'." Wait, Spike didn't kiss me? I was just daydreaming about Spike kissing me? That is so not good. "Didn't realize how much you missed cleaning house for me. Kinky."

"Shut-up Spike." I replied automatically. He chuckled and turned to the girls.

"So what did we learn today, my chitlets?"

"That I need to stay more on the defensive." Kenya said.

"I need to work on my technique a little." Alex added.

"I need to be less afraid of my abilities as a slayer." Patricia pipped up.

"Vampires get drunk really easily." Emma snarked.

"Not all the time. I just got a little carried away, what with being surrounded by such beauty." Spike glided across the room and snatched up Alex's hand and bowed over it like a gentleman. He then looked up and smiled. All four of them giggled. I resisted the urge to beat my head against something hard, like Spike's skull. That would solve more than one of my problems actually. Like a conscious Spike and the growing frustration at a conscious Spike. The phone rang. I silently thanked the Powers that Be that allowed me to get out of that room.

I went to pick up the phone in my bedroom. "Bonjour? Maria LeBeau's residence. May I ask who is calling?" Well, we can't go around saying "This is the Slayer safe house in Paris" that would negate the whole purpose of the safe house.

"Xander? Its Willow." my best friend said over the phone.

"Wills? Hey! What's up, super duck?"

"Super duck? On second thought I don't want to know. Look, Xander, we need you to come home for a bit."

"Uh I really don't think that's a good idea, Wills. The Parisian squad is still not up to par yet. I would feel-"

"Xander, Renee's dead." Wait. What?

"Wait. What?"

"Renee died last night. Her funeral is at the end of the week." My entire world just drop out from under my feet, like when Buffy died that last time.

"How?"

"She-uh-she was chasing a vampire across a road and a truck hit her head on and pinned her to a tree. She died within five minutes due to internal damage. Her squad members said her last words were about you." I was crying. I clutched the phone to my ear and bent over. I feel sick. I sob loudly. "Oh Xander." There was a hitch to Willow's voice that told me that she was crying as well. I remembered Tara. She died a randomly normal death too. She and Renee who was taken…oh god. She's dead. I've been here in Paris crushing on _Spike_ of all people and she was off fighting the good fight and getting killed. I should have been there.

"No. No. No. No. It's not true. It's not true. God, Willow just tell me you're joking. Put Renee on and tell me you're joking."

"I'm sorry, Xander. I'm not joking." Willow sounded small and distant. Like she did after Anya died. But Anya died protecting Andrew against uber-vamps. And when we got then news of Cordy's death from Angel. She died because of visions. Renee-why was It that every woman who I ever had a real relationship with was dead? Were the Powers that Be just trying to make me miserable? "Xander? Here's Buffy."

"Xander?" Buffy also sounded small. DAMMIT, she wasn't suppose to sound small. She wasn't allowed. She was the reason why they all kept fighting even when everyone they loved died around them. _She wasn't allowed! _"Xander are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be there at by Friday. I gotta go. Bye" I hung up. Almost immediately the phone started ringing again. I pull the entire thing off the table and out of the wall socket and threw it across the room with a roar of anger. I can hear it ringing in the other rooms. I storm out and start systematically destroying the phones. "Don't answer any calls." I told my squad. The girls looked horrified. Spike just looked mildly curious. I had gotten rid of all the landlines. The ringing finally stopped. Ha! My cellphone starts ringing that stupid jingle that it rings. I pull it out of my pants' pocket and flung it across the room. I got great satisfaction out of it hitting the wall and busting apart. Out of the corner of my vision I see Spike's eyebrows inch up his forehead. "WHAT?" I scream at him. The girls cringe away from me. Spike just sighed calmly.

"Bad news?" he drawled.

_

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_**Author After notes:**_

So a little longer than the other chapters but a little more complex. . .

I am giving the first five reviewers of every new chapter a different hint about the next chapter in the story just to keep it interesting for you and me. Better than cyber cookies, neh? I have a lighter schedule now so there might be faster updates there might not be….I am, after all, only a fan fiction writer.

Twilight is a villain from the Comic's season eight. Renee is a slayer who Xander is sort of dating. These little tidbits will be throughout the entire fanfic, I am sorry but I need them in there for plotpurposes the way a lot of fic writers use Xander's trip to Africa from that book I haven't read as a plot point in their stories. If you haven't read Season Eight yet please do. Whedon is back in charge so it doesn't suck as bad as Seasons 6-7 of the television show. It's actually quite funny and badass. Faith stabs Giles with a salad fork!

Love my readers that review, at a friendly distance.

Tropic


	6. Grievances with Vampires

**_Meetings in Sewers_**

**By: Tropicwhale**

**Disclaimer**: Not mine, no sue-y.

**Notes**: Hey! I need a reliable, experienced beta that can check for grammar and continuity problems because it seems that no matter how hard I try they are still cropping up and as a writer that bugs me that my readers read that. I am in this for the long haul and need a beta to help me through it. They will need to do a demo chapter that is already been released as a test and then will start "officially" with the next incoming chapter and continue after the fic is at an end to check chapters 1-6 that were not beta'd. Credit will be given in every chapter that is beta'd and in my profile. Thank-you. Also the angst is almost at a end (not really).

**Warnings**: Slash! Bad Language! ANGST! Spike's dirty mind. _TURN BACK NOW_ IF THIS SQUICKS YOU.

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**Chapter Six**:  
_Grievances with Vampires_

Xander rushed me. I waited up until the last moment and moved out of the way. Xander, in his blind rage, ran headlong into the wall I had been leaning against and knocked himself out cold. I stand over his prone body and sigh. Definitely bad news. "Alright. You girls head out. Go on patrol, go shop. I don't care just get out of here for at least five hours." Emma decided it was a good idea to go head-to-head with me just then. For those of you out there familar with me, you know that's a bad idea.

"We don't take orders from vampires. We stake them." I glared down at her.

"Fine, go find some vampires to stake. But leave Harris to me."

"No. I'm squad leader and I give the orders around here. After Xander, of course." I smirked and punched her out.

"Right. Now, lock her in her room-no, wait, actually…" I dig Xander's wallet out of his pants and pull out enough money to get them a hotel room. It's not as kinky as it sounds...oh, was that image only in my mind? Well, not anymore. "Get out of here for the night. Go, find a hotel room." I hand the money to Patricia. "I don't know who was on the other line but it had to be bad news. Get out of here. I'll take care of him. You can trust me." Patricia nodded and led Kenya and Alex out as the two other girls lifted and carried the unconscious Emma out. I sighed again. Seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Ought to stop it. Someone might get the wrong idea about me. I picked up Xander and half dragged him to his bedroom and tucked him in. What? Oh, you think I'm tucking him in because I'm a good friend and want him to be safe and warm. Well, you would be wrong. I'm wrapping him up nice and snug so when he comes to he can't slug me. This is about survival and self-protection, my friends not warm fuzzies. I am not a warm, fuzzy vampire. I'm mean and bad and all about the leather and attitude. If you want a fuzzy, warm vampire go to L.A. Oh! Did I just imply that my sire is warm and fuzzy? I shouldn't do that. It's mean. Alright, its also fun and how I get my jollies. Being a good guy comes with so little perks, mocking Angel every chance I get is one of the few I get to keep, that and porn. . . .and violence. Is that all my life is these days? Violence and porn and sarcasm? Eh, works for me. After I tucked Xander in I went back into the kitchen to wet down a rag with cold water. I wring out most of the excess water so it won't drip and take it back into the bedroom to sit on the side of the bed. I wring out the rag completely onto Xander's face. He woke up almost immediately but was really groggy. "Wha' happen'd?"

"You charged me and managed to knock yourself out."

"Why'd I do that?"

"Dunno. Was going to ask you." I saw the exact moment when Xander realized what had happen. His eye opened wide with guilt and shock then his entire face crumpled in pain. Tears leaked out from behind his eyelid. I found myself reaching out to comfort him, stroking his hair. "Who was on the phone, pet?"

"Willow." He seemed content in giving me that much information. Unfortunately, I needed a little more and judging by the pain in his face and the phone destruction marathon he just finished not fifteen minutes before I really should know more. If only to stop the violence. . . .shut up I was trying to be sincere. Alright, no I wasn't but Xander really looked like he needed a friend right then. . .unfortunately I was the only one there. I'm sure he would prefer Buffy or Willow or even Giles or _Andrew_ before me but you work with what you're given, yeah?

"Xander, what did she say?" He opened his eye to stare at me.

"I-she called. . .she called to tell. . . .to tell me that Renee died." The name rang a bell but I couldn't place it.

"Who's Renee?"

"My girlfriend back in Scotland." Oh now I remember! The mini-slayers were saying how Xander was dating a Renee back in Scotland. "She's first squad leader or was. She was strong, brave and smart and beautiful. She was chasing a vamp 'cross a road and ended up pinned to a tree by a truck." Xander blinked rapidly a couple of times. The way most people blink if they're trying to hold back tears.

"Oh mate. 'M sorry."

"Why? You were here with me." I know what he really means is that _he_ was here with me. H.M.S Guilt Trip is going for another voyage. Bloody Hell.

"You have nothing to feel guilty or angry about, Xander. Believe me."

"What would you know?" Ooo, look he's angry. You wouldn't like him when he's angry.

"I lost my twin brother when I was twelve. And my father not long after." Whatever Xander was expecting, it wasn't that. Yeah, I had a twin brother. Got layers, I do. You didn't think that I was just some bad boy with a chip in his head, did you? Oh. You did? Well you were wrong. So there.

"Wait. What?"

"I've been around for 150 years. As a human and a vampire. I know about loss more than most people. Tell me more about Renee?"

"She was beautiful. One of the first slayers I meet when down in Africa. She had short dark hair with the tips dyed red-orange. Her parents died in a civil war when she was five and she lived at St. Margaret's Orphanage for Girls until I found her. She was using her slayer strength to fight off guerrillas that were trying to attack the orphanage. Over twenty young women and girls and she saved them. She was smart too. One of the smartest women that I've ever meant. She learned how to read and speak English from the nuns and she had every intention of joining the order so she could continue her education. Picked up stuff from Buffy and Willow real quick too. Didn't even want to come with me at first until the Mother Superior told her that to accept this higher calling was a gift from God. She accepted it and went with me. I think I loved her. And now she's dead." I was still stroking his hair, I don't know why but it seemed to calm him down. I know vampires have a need to be physical probably why our kills are so intimate; right at the neck, or the wrist, or at the femoral artery at the groin (that one is fun to feed at), maybe its because of our human halves instead of the demon. Either way, I stopped petting him. "Spike?"

"Yeah, mate?"

"Tell me about your brother?" Whoa. I probably shouldn't have brought that up. Whelp, its too late now. I haven't thought about my twin in well over a century. "Please?" Damn puppy dog voice. Makes me wanna go back to petting him. I clasp my hands in my lap and stare down at them. Maybe they won't move as long as they're watched. I breath deeply. What was the question again? Oh yeah, my brother.

"His name was Alexander." Yeah, I know. Talk about irony. Alexander always was a popular name. Leave me alone.

"Really?" I nod. "Wow."

"Yeah. Mum named us for great kings. He was Alexander the Great and I was William the Conqueror. She wanted great things out of us, I guess. We were fraternal twins. He was always stocker than me, the brawn to my brain. But you could tell we were twins; same cheek bones, same eyes, same mouth, same ablity to get into trouble." There were some good stories about that. Like this time when we were ten involving Scotland Yard and White Chapel and this- you don't need to know about that. Remind me and maybe I'll tell ya later, yeah? Anyways. . ."There were times, when we were little my smart mouth would get me into trouble with our peers and they'd attempt to beat up on me. Alexander always came to my rescue, he was always tougher than me. Of course after he died, it only took a couple of beatings to get me to shut up. You learn real quick when and when not to mouth off when you get your face pounded into cobblestones a couple of times. Believe you me."

"How'd he die?" I breath again. This was getting hard. After all this time the memory was still fresh. It still hurt.

"Me da' had a sister who lived in Dorset. Every summer m'family went down to her house. She had a couple of 'orses…horses. Alexander loved to ride, I hated it but there were plenty of fields and woods where two young boys could get into trouble and horses were still the fastest way to get around. Plus we were still small enough to ride on a single horse." I glance at the boy and look back down to my hands. Started to pull at the stitching of the bedclothes. "The day had started out so clear it had been a surprise when the rainstorm came out of nowhere. We had been out in this field and had to take the path through the wood to get back to our aunt's house. We were riding; I was in front, Alexander was behind me, and there was this thunderclap. . .I had told Alexander a hundred times. . ._a hundred times_ that he should chose a horse that wasn't. . .as excitable as the stallion we were riding but he never listened. . .the animal spooked and threw us, ran off. I managed to break my leg, my right femur. Alexander hit his head on a rock, bashed his brains in. I held him as he died. The stupid horse ran all the way back to my aunt's house and there was a search party mounted. The rain had stopped by the time they found us, the sun had come out. Like it was mocking me. All I could see was all that blood, so much blood. There was so much blood with a bit of white and grey from his skull and his brain and he was so cold. I didn't even get to say good-bye." My vision got blurry. I rubbed at my eyes with the heels of both my hands which gave the added benefit of not having to look Xander in the eye.

"Wow, Spike. Can I ask one question, though?" I attempted to get myself under control.

"What?" So I sounded a little short. So what? I just bared my soul to someone who. . .well he's Xander. He's not know for being the nicest person to me, yeah?

"Why can't I move?" I cracked up. It was hysterical. Of all the things he could have asked. . .leave it to Xander to lighten the mood. Wasn't I suppose to be cheering him up? I started laughing and couldn't stop. After a moment he joins in. "No seriously, why can't I move?"

"A hundred years bondage practice with Angelus, Darla, and Dru. I didn't want you to slug me when you woke up, that's why." As he would say. . .DUH!

"Oh."

"Feel better?"

"Yeah."

"Wiggle around a bit. It'll help loosen the blanket and you'll be able to get free."

"Can't you just untangle me?"

"Oi, I just bared a bit of my soul that no one, and I mean _no one_, has ever known about me not even me own mum so the least you can do is amuse me by looking like an inch worm for a couple of seconds."

"Thanks, Spike." He said drily but without menace. I chuckle a little because he already started wiggling.

"No problem." I smirk at him. Alright, I'll admit it. I kinda missed him. He was such a dork sometimes. But a bearable dork not like some people I could name. If you missed it I'm implying that Angel is a dork here. And maybe Andrew. . .in large doses. In small doses he's alright. . . tell anyone I said that and you will find yourself hanging upside down on a concrete wall above a horse trough (to catch the blood) with railroad spikes driven through your extremities, I mean it. I bloody well earned the name William the Bloody for a reason. . .and Spike. . .Blondie Bear had nothing to do with me that was all Harmony, I promise. Seriously, Blondie Bear? _EUGH_!

"When I get out of here I'm _soo_ gotta kick your ass."

"Promises, promises." I sigh sarcastically. I stand up. "When you get out of there, we'll watch some football and toast to your dearly departed girl with some whiskey. Send her soul on the path ta Heaven the right way, stone drunk. Alright?"

"Fine" Harris huffed and promptly fell off the bed in a tangle of sheets. I chortle at his antics. Yes 'chortle', I have a good vocabulary, its just more fun not to use it. People might get the idea that I'm smart. . .instead of a smart-ass. Shut-up I meant to say that. Great, and now I'm arguing with people who read fanfiction. I've sunk so low. Oh well! At least Xander is still amusing me and Angel still uses way too much hair care product. "Stop laughing, its not funny."

"Is from my side of the show. Really, you should try it some time." I chuckle a little more. Xander erupts out of the blankets and charges me again. Only this time, I'm so busy laughing that he tackles me. Oops. I'm still laughing as we go down and hit the floor with all the force that the bulk of Alexander Lavelle Harris could produce. That is a lot of bulk. My _God_, someone out there is really dense. I can practically hear you think _'Is he implying Xander's fat? I don't think he's fat, I think he's hot.'_ Okay, one: yes I implying Xander's fat, you dense, no nothing nitwit and two, he's not hot, he's marginally good-looking at best and no where near my caliber. Also? Angel's fat, and a poof. I just need to throw that out there. Keeps me sane. The wind was knocked out of me and the situation was still funny. That was until I looked up right into Xander's eye. That was so un-funny it was funny. His hot breath ghosted over my face and I had to blink. "Hullo." I said. Stupid. Saying 'hullo' like a complete and utter pounce. Stupid.

"Hi." he whispered back. I reach out and brush his bangs back and bit my lip.I immediately stop biting it. I'm not a girl, I don't need to act like one, god-dammit. Xander leans in and my hand flattens along his scalp.

"Long day." I tell him.

"Long day." He agrees.

"It gets better."

"Yeah." He pulls back a little.

"At least that is what they tell me. I really couldn't tell ya from personal experience."

"Yeah."

"Drink?"

"Yeah."

"All ya need is love."

"What?"

"Beatles' song. Got you from saying yeah, yeah, yeah over and over again." He looked surprised as he leaned down and pressed his lips chastely to mine. He pulled back still looking a little shell-shocked, took one look at the surprise on my face and manage to sprint stumbling out of the room. I pull myself up and back together and follow him. He froze in place in the middle of the living room.

"Where are the girls?"

"You were freaking them out so I gave them some money to stay overnight at a hotel. Figured whatever that phone call was about you needed some time alone. Or at least away from women going _'what's wrong? are you okay? Do you need to cry?_'" He laughed at my imitation female voice that sounded remarkably like Emma. It was completely by accident, I assure you. "So-" I start as he picks up the remote and turns on the TV. "Why did you kiss me?" Xander freezes. I deliberately walk away to the kitchen to get the whiskey that I brought in earlier. When I get back he hasn't moved. I sit on the couch and place the bottle onto the coffee table, prepared to wait for his reaction to that question.

"I shouldn't have done that. Sorry." He hasn't moved. Typical. Avoidance and guilt. Doesn't that boy know any other way of dealing with stuff? Probably not. He is an American male. I smirk. Oh, it is so good to know that some of my evil tendencies haven't been completely crushed by the soul. I muster up an angry face and pout.

"Apology not accepted!" Xander turns around looking for all the world like he's about to piss his pants. I attempt to look hurt. Judging by the panic on his face I succeed admirably. Oh I love doing this. "You tackle me and then take advantage of me while I'm pinned under you? I'm not like you. I don't crave -_oh my god_ and right after your girlfriend dies? You animal. You disgust me." I pout and look like I am about to cry again. Xander looks horrified. It's hilarious! Shit, a smile creaked out of my sad veneer. Not that I use words like 'veneer' to talk about my face. That is something I would have done when I was human but not any more. Those tendencies died when I became William the Bloody. But Xander caught the slip and hit me upside the head. That did it. I cracked up. He looked pretty angry that I was laughing at him, again. Oh well, won't be the last time.

"You jerk!" he yelled but still sat next to me on the couch. I giggled evilly.

"Yeah." I agree and hand him the bottle. He opens it and takes a swig of the burning liquid. "But you love me anyways."

"Soooo debatable."

"Whatever, Zeppo, I'm damn lovable!"

"You're as lovable as I am bitable."

"You're bitable. Here let me show you." I shift to my true face and go for his neck. I find myself face to face with a cross. I shift back to my human face. Now where did that come from?

"Back off, Deadboy Jr." Xander's eyes were trained on the football game. Not even a glance in my direction. Somehow I think that I was set up. I frowned at the cross and sat back down properly again. The cross disappeared back into the couch cushions. Well that explains that. WAIT! I sleep out here! What if I got burned by accident?

"How did you-?"

"I've been fighting vamps since I was fifteen and you're predictable."

"Am not."

"I knew you were going to say that."

"No you didn't." I am not predictable. "Gimme the bloody whiskey." I snatch the bottle from him and take a swig. Barely after I brought it away from my lips it was snatched away again. "Oi!" Xander took a swig.

"Bugger off, Spike."

"You are not allow to use British slang if you're not British. That's what I'm here for."

"What about Australians?"

"Well-"

"Or Scots? People from New Zealand, the Welsh, British Colombians, Barbadians, Bermudians, the Irish, the-" He counts off.

"Oi! The Irish don't count, they are the anti-British."

"What about North Ireland?"

"Don't like them, they're traitors to their own people. Almost as bad as the Welsh."

"What is wrong with the Welsh?"

"They're Welsh." I stare at him puzzled.

"What about Torchwood? That show rocks and it takes place in Wales." This is true.

"Yeah, have you seen the second season yet?"

"Yup."

"I like Captain John Hart. He reminds me of me." Back when I didn't care.

"I don't see it."

"Besides, the only reason that show makes the Welsh look good is because of Captain Jack Harkness." I tune into the game. Manchester just got a yellow card.

"What about-" I erupted to my feet, the whiskey bottle sloshing dangerously.

"OH COME ON! YOU DAFT WANKER! HE WAS MILES AWAY FROM HIM! GET SOME BLOODY GLASSES! BLOODY HELL! STUPID REFS AND-"

"SPIKE!!"

"Wot?" I turn to face him on a dime. It's like I hadn't just been yelling at the top of my lungs.

"Calm down. Its just a game."

"Maybe to you. Americans and their stupid wannabe rugby calling it football. Real football is a lifestyle from the players to the training to the fans. You, Harris, can't possibility understand."

"You rhymed."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too." Great. What is it about talking to Xander Harris that turns both of us into two year olds?

"Well now hasn't this conversation degraded to grade school level. Soon you'll be crying that I stole your teddy and will need your nappy changed."

"Hey, you're involved in this conversation as well." I sit back down and take another swig then held out the bottle in a toast. "To Renee, didn't know ya but Xander liked you so you had to be alright and at least partially a demon." He laughed. I smiled and past him the bottle.

"To Renee, I wish I had had more time with you." he toasted. Alright so he wanted to be all morose did he? I'll fix that. I nodded and grabbed the bottle.

"To Renee, if I were still evil I probably would have tried to kill you." He laughed again and tried to somber up, stealing the liquor back.

"To Renee, thankfully you never met Spike because he is a right ass, oh sorry _arse_, and that if you met him. . .he probably would have stalked you too."

"Oh was she that badass? 'Cause I only stalk bad ass girls. It's a rule." Yes, I have rules. I break them on occasion but I'm a rebel. I'm meant to break the rules.

"yep."

"What the bloody hell was she doing with you then?" Xander punched me in the arm and I turned to face him. He stopped laughing when we made eye contact. "So, when is her funeral?"

"At the end of the week."

"Do you need help packing?" He broke eye contact to stare at the screen.

"I'm not going." What?

?"What? Are you nuts? You need closure, mate. You were dating. How would it look if her boyfriend didn't show up to her funeral? I'll tell you what it would look like, like you didn't respect her and then Buffy and Willow and Dawn will show up here growling for gore, see me and. . .oh good lord for the both our sakes go to the funeral." Scary thoughts are chasing each other around my brain featuring pissed off women from Sunnydale. That boy is going to the funeral even if I have to knock him out and ship him there express. Xander was looking at me funny. "Wot?"

"What about the girls?"

"I'll watch for them, wouldn't be the first time I played babysitter, yeah?"

"Okay."

"Okay you'll go?"

"Yeah." He was still looking at me funny. Kinda like right before he kissed me in the bedroom. That was weird.

"What's amatter then?" He kissed me. . .AGAIN!! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL? I pushed him away. "What the hell are you thinking?!" He looked really confused and then I got it. "Look, mate, Xander, you're grieving and drunk. . .You really don't want me." He put the bottle down on the coffee table (hope it doesn't leave a ring) and scooted closer to me. Oh bloody hell.

"What if I do?" Oh God, I know that I'm not one of your creatures but don't do this to me. Don't have another Scooby use me to deal with _their_ pain. Xander kissed me again, hard this time. His mouth tasted like whiskey and life. I love kissing people who are alive, you can feel their pulse in their mouths to the point you can feel it echo in your own. His mouth moved to my jaw and there was a thrill of electricity starting at my toes to the point where his mouth was and back again. I moan. He was pushing me back into the cushions. His mouth was on my throat and his hands were under my shirt. It feels so good. It had been so long since anyone-no. I push the boy away. I force him to make eye contact.

"Then tell me tomorrow when you're sober and while you pack." I could see the question forming in his mind and the answer as well. I saw the horror and the guilt. I watch somberly as he sobered up and pulled away both mentally and physically. Shit, I screwed up. He ran out of the room and seconds later I heard the bedroom door slam shut. I turned my head and saw the game still on and I reach out to grab the remote to turn it off. Well, my goal was to help him work through the emotional roller coaster of grieving for a lost loved one. I think I failed. It's possible. Probably. Why do my plans never work anyways?

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**Author After Notes**: I swear that this chapter was not meant to be this long or this angst-ridden or originally had kissing in it. Well, best laid plans and all that. I think this is one of my better written pieces, actually. I think there is something deeper going on with the characters than what I had originally planned and I'm curious to see where that is heading. Review if you liked it. Review if you hate it. Review if your pissed at me because of the angst or the grammer or whatever else you would like me to fix. Whatever, just review. And also...why am I thinking in a Southern drawl?

**TBC**


	7. Funerals for Lovers

_**Meetings in Sewers**_

**_By_**: Tropicwhale

**_Disclaimer_**: Insert a preferred witty saying that basically implies or outright says that that the characters that are portrayed in this fanfic are not my intellectual property and that I am making no money off them. Reader's choice.

_**Warnings for this chapter**_: PLOT! ANGST! Well he is at a funeral.

**_Author Notes_**: This might be longer than originally planned, the fic not the chapter. It really does depend on how these next two chapters go when my boys are apart. . . Yes they are my boys. . .especially Spike, yum. . .not so much Xander.

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**Chapter 7**:  
_Funerals for Lovers_

Spike had sent me off on a red eye flight to Edinburgh with a transfer on a smaller plane to Inverness and even set me up with a rental car. The vampire has mad travel skills, seriously. He should be like a travel agent or something. Wow, got that weird mental image in my head now. Spike, the bleached bonehead, working phones and travel brochures to wannabe tourists in his leather duster. Weird image, weird, weird, weird image. Actually it's kinda funny. William the Bloody Travel Agent booking flights by nights. I start chuckling and take a sip of my drink to hide my amusement. A slayer walks past me to the entryway and smiles sympathetically. I nod back at her and turn to smile at Willow who is making a beeline for me from the air. From my vantage point on top of the castle wall I can see the bonfire that is Renee's ceremonial send off and not smell the burning flesh of my dead girlfriend. Wow, that was morbid. Cremation is the only sure way that a dead body stays dead in our line of work. Otherwise, they can come back. Just look at Spike and Buffy. Spike as a vampire not his second rising from the dead after he got dusted. I'm really not sure how he came back that time. I haven't been able to weasel it out of him. He's very evasive when he wants to be. Anyway, it's become regulation to burn the bodies of dead slayers so that we don't have undead with slayer strength plus vampire strength roaming around. I just couldn't take standing in the field between Buffy and Willow and watch as they set Renee's body on fire. I just couldn't do it. But it felt like I was betraying her memory by not watching, thus the standing on a parapet and the strong alcoholic drink. "Hey Xander." Willow said as she landed.

"Hey Wills." She gave me a hug which I returned. "Nice wake." It was. There was lots of food and alcohol. I wasn't laying into the food as much as I was the booze. Well, I am a Harris, after all, there's only so many dealing techniques that we can use. I just wish I could get back to Spike . . . Err, I mean Paris which has my girls (and Spike). I really suck at funerals. I can't deal with them. There are all these people who barely knew the deceased coming up to you, hugging and claiming how nice and good that person was. It actually passes for me as a kind of shock. It's like someone takes me out of myself and forces me to watch the event rather than to experience it.

"I tried to make it special. Renee was one of the best."

"Yeah, she was." I agree. Dawn suddenly loomed up over me, leaning on the wall like you would a counter-top. "Hey there, Dawnie. Still a giant or are you just using smoke and mirrors?"

"Still looking for the blood of an Englishman. Sorry 'bout Renee. I knew you guys were close."

"Yeah."

"Did you have sex yet?"

"What?" I think Anya wore off onto Dawn just a little bit.

"Did you have sex with Renee? Or were you waiting for something? Because if you had sex with her then she didn't die a virgin, which is great. But if you didn't then that's okay too because she didn't know what she was missing."

"Dawn." Buffy's stern voice said from behind as she joined us.

"Well, its true." Dawn added before her sister's look shut her up.

"Hi Xander." I got another hug. Buffy, thankfully, didn't try and placidate me with fake statements of how great Renee was.

"I hug you too but, you know, giant." Dawn said. "I'd probably squish you."

"I'm working on it, Dawn." Willow told her.

"I know you are but I still wish I was normal-sized again."

"It's a shame it isn't as easy as asking Kenny to forgive you." I mused aloud, as I turn back to watch the funeral pier burn. There is a moment of silence. I look over at the girls. They're staring at me in shock and dawning happiness. "What did I say?" Dawn's practically bouncing in place and Buffy looks inordinately pleased with me, like a middle school teacher who got a college level answer out of the class clown. "What?" Willow suddenly launched herself at me and hugged me tightly. I stumble back and into the wall behind me. "Gah! What did I say?" Willow detached herself and grinned at me.

"Kenny!" huh?

"Huh?" I don't get it. "I don't get it."

"If we can track down Kenny and Dawn asks his forgiveness and is truly sorry then the thricewise magick should reverse itself." Willow explained. "Why didn't I think of that before? We just assumed that Kenny was a jerk and that Dawn would need outside help but if Kenny is an injured party, no offense Dawn but you did, you know, kinda break his heart, then the magick that a thricewise uses is different, stemming from a place of anger instead of a place of-of-of-um . . ." Willow looked at a loss for a word.

"Mischief?" Buffy offered.

"Mischief! That would work. The magic stems from a place of mischief, really cruel mischief grant you, but mischief nonetheless. So if we can get Kenny out here and face Dawn face to face so she can ask forgiveness then we can break the spell and return Dawn to her normal size!" I followed (sort of).

"Yay?" I asked. Willow rolled her eyes at me.

"Yay." She confirmed. I allowed it to process a little more. Dawn asks Kenny to forgive her and then she can return to normal size. OH I get it!

"YAY! That's great!" I grinned at my girls. Willow nodded.

"And we couldn't have figured it out if not for you, Xander." Willow beamed some more at me. If her grin got any bigger then her face would split. It was contagious. I grinned back at her. Buffy grinned. Dawn grinned. We were grinning fools. Like we had been hit by Joker's laughing gas.

"Yay for me, then. Never say that the Xan-man didn't have the answers cause I do." I bounce a little. I felt lighter from being with my friends. We all worked better together. I missed them. Don't get me wrong, Paris is great, the city of lights and love. Not to mention Patricia, Emma, Kenya, and Alex had so much potential as slayers that I can see them leading squads of their own soon enough and then there was Spike. My happiness faded a little. I feel a little guilty not telling the girls that our favorite platinum-headed, leather-clad vampire was back from the dust. But Spike was right. Wow, never thought I'd say that. Spike was right. The girls probably couldn't handle that. I could barely handle it. Besides, Spike wanted to remain a hero in their eyes. I could tell that he still holds a torch for Buffy but seems convinced that she had moved on from whatever place it was that made her be with him. Maybe she had. She never did feel the way about him that he did about her. It was weird. Spike was being all noble and self-effacing. That didn't seem like him. When someone mentioned Spike, the thing that popped into my head wasn't Clark Kent it was Oliver Green, maybe Tony Stark, stratch that definately Tony Stark. It was the guy who took the credit and the rewards that came with being a white hat not the guy that was a hero because it was the right thing to do. Come to think of it, Spike was being extraordinarily . . .well . . .sweet since we ran into him in the sewers. By the way, the Parisian sewers systems? They stink. They stink like a gym locker in a boys' locker room that has a dirty jockstrap, gym shorts, socks, and a moldy ham and cheese sandwich in it that was forgotten over the summer break. Ew, right? What you mean Spike already mentioned it? Oh. In the _first _chapter? Oops. Hey, what does he say about me? Nothing bad I hope. What you mean what do I mean? I'm curious, is all. He's, well, Spike. I am not obsessive! I'm not. Anyway, I'm going with ignoring you now and focusing on my friends. This is me ignore you. So there! Why are the girls staring at me weird?

"Xander, you okay?" Buffy asked. Uh? Crap, must have spaced.

"Yeah. Fine. I was just . . ." Think, Harris, think. "Thinking about Renee."

"Oh Xander." Willow hugged me again. After a moment, Buffy joined in. Dawn gave me thumbs up overhead.

"So how's Paris?" Dawn asked. "Is it all pretty lights and nummy pastries?" I smile up at her.

"Don't know." I told her. "Most of the demon population in Paris is in its catacombs and sewers." Sewers like the one, by the way Dawn, where I discovered Spike isn't dust. I added in my mind. Ooo, look! It's my old pal Guilt! Hiya, Guilt, no I can't tell the girls about Spike because I promised not to. "So not so much seeing the _ville des lumières _with the Xan-man." The girls stared at me. What did I say?

"Xander" Buffy said slowly. "Did you just speak French?" What? A guy can't live in Paris without picking up some of the local language? I can speak Swahili and Portuguese as well. Even managed to pick up a little Scottish curses while living here in Scotland. What's the big deal? But fortunately, before I started to babble out a Spike rant about being well-traveled and blow my little secret I was saved. By a slayer. Yay.

"Mister Harris?" A short brunette said from the entryway that lead into the castle. I sighed.

"How many times to I have to say 'Xander, call me Xander' before it sinks in?" The girl smiled.

"Approximately four hundred fifty two times. You're at one hundred seven." She snipped back.

"What do you need Clara?" I ask. Clara was on Renee's squad. Smart girl, had a head for strategy.

"The squad and I were wondering if we could talk to you?" I then noticed that there were five other girls were hovering in the stairwell. Squads are generally seven slayers but it takes time and effort to get group chemistry right, which is why the Paris squad is so small. I'm trying to get the initial four up to par before introducing new members. The old Paris squad was wiped out by a Big Bad about eighteen months ago which is why the four that I got are so green and also why I'm the one training them. They need to get up to par and fast. The only way to do that is if they have an expert, namely yours truly, working with them. Renee's squad was handpicked and included some of our oldest slayers, and by oldest I do mean oldest. Renee was 20 when she died. The youngest of the group is Clara who is seventeen and who was one of the first slayers to join Buffy's army after we left Sunnydale. My girls; Willow, Buffy, and Dawn, smiled at her and made themselves scarce by having Willow and Buffy climb onto Dawn's hand and ride away on her. Renee's squad waited until they were out of earshot before filing in one by one; first Clara, then Shauna, Katie, Nevada, Darla, and finally Allyson.

"What's up?" I asked, going for casual , leaning against the parapet. I don't honestly know if I pulled it off.

"Well . . ." Clara looked at her teammates. Shauna picked up the thread.

"Renee had some messages for you." I blink to clear my head.

"Say what now?" I can already feel my body tensing in that familiar fight or flight feeling. I remember Willow telling me in that phone conversation that Renee's last words were about me. But Shauna said some messages, plural. This week had just been too long, what with Spike coming back and Renee dying, seeing these girls was getting dangerously close to being too much for me to handle.

"The night Renee died we found out something that you should know." Shauna said and looked to Darla. Darla sighed. She hated when her teammates looked to her to explain the tough stuff. She was a tough cookie, Darla, and believed in tough love and ripping bandages off fast.

"Okay look there is a Big Bad in Paris and Renee decided, before she died, that the knowledge should be past to you instead of Buffy. I don't know why but it probably has something to do with it would have come to you anyway and also the fact that Renee and Buffy stopped getting along about a week after you left for Paris." That was news.

"Why were they fighting?"

"Because," Darla said, exasperation all over her face and in her voice. "Renee was pissed at how Buffy treated you as just another soldier and Buffy started treating Renee like Renee was acting like she was something special. Normal catfight stuff but enough that Renee didn't trust Buffy about the whole demon in Paris thing. She was going to call you when she got home that night but obviously that didn't work out. So we took it upon ourselves to tell you. Apparently there is this, what was it called?" Darla looked at Clara.

"A Shournlach Demon"

"Yeah, what she said, who is after something that is in Paris, a book. This book is a thing of great power. Suppose to be like the Grimmorie of Morgan Le Fay or something and can summon the end of the world. Twilight is after it and the-" she pointed at her teammate.

"-Shournlach Demon-" Clara interjected.

"Right, is one of his followers. The book needs to get into safe hands and/or destroyed so that Twilight can't get a hold of it."

"How dangerous is this book?" I asked.

"Well, if research serves?" Nevada spoke up. "The last time it was used was at the battle between King Arthur and Mordred. It is said that it ended the age of magic and the occult and ushered in the Dark Ages."

"Which explains why Twilight would want it." Darla added.

"You need to tell Buffy. Now." Okay so I was a little irrationally angry at these girls but can you blame me? I'm so wound up that I need to snap. And not telling Buffy about something that could end the world is right up there on the stupid meter for me.

"No, we can't do that." Allyson, who reminds me so much of young Willow before the magick and the gayness and vampires and Buffy and everything, said with her resolve face on. "Renee was our squad leader. It would dishonor her memory by telling Ms. Summers something that she doesn't need to know. Besides, if we tell her she might mobilize herself and that would draw Twilight's attention. If we can keep the operation as low key as possible, we may be able to destroy the book without Twilight ever realizing it." That made sense.

"Alright, I won't tell Buffy, for now. But the Paris squad isn't ready yet for a big battle so if I catch a hint of Twilight on my turf, I'm telling her everything. Okay?" They nod and start to leave. Clara stopped them.

"Wait, we forgot to tell him what she said." They stopped and looked at her and then at me. Here it was, the moment of truth, Renee's last words. Katie stepped forward. She had been quiet up until this point. Katie was a introverted girl who never said anything until absolutely necessary.

"Renee, right before she, well, you know. She told us to tell you to be happy, to find happiness. She said 'Tell Xander not to be afraid to find happiness. He's going to freak when he hears about this so tell him not to be afraid to look for love again.'." The other girls and I stare at her. "I have an auto-graphic memory. I hear things and can remember them exactly." She shrugged and then gave me a hug. "She was right, you know." She started to cry, it looked like she had been holding herself together until she hugged me. I hugged back. "We need to keep moving forward. It would suck if we all just stopped right here." The other girls all started to give me a group hug. All of them were a little teary-eyed. I think the hug was as much for themselves as it was for me. They all loved Renee like you love an older sister or a team captain. She was a good leader that was easy to follow. She inspired hope and individualism in her teammates that made them the best in the field. She inspired me to be more open with myself. Hey! She was inspirational and I love her. Love, not quite in the past tense yet. She opened my heart back up, something that has been closed off since Anya died. I'm grateful for that. Thank-you Renee. May you rest in peace.

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**_Author Afternotes_**: I think I need to end it right there. It's a good stopping place. Xander needed to be brought through his grief, I was actually quite afraid that this fic would get stuck in angst and I wouldn't be able to stop it but no it was normal healthy grief. Which is good. Also? I think I accidentally added plot somewhere in this chapter. It is trippy how easy it is to write this thing. It's like its writing itself. Which is a cool feeling by the way. Review now or I'll sic Cordelia and Anya on you.


	8. Talks with Sires

_**Meetings in Sewers** _

_**By: Tropicwhale**_

**_Disclaimer_**: I am not anyone other than who I am thus the characters are NOT MINE!

**_Warnings_**: Plot! Slash! Bad Language! Ye hath been warned!

**_This chapter is Dedicated to_**: James Marsters because the man is in his forties and still is so absolutely drop-undead gorgeous it's just not fair.

**_Author Notes_**: Hi again. So I'm starting summer classes, like yesterday, and updates may be coming a little bit slower than they were for the last couple of days. Just fair warning, yeah? Also, a couple of things have come to my attention and I would like to share them with you, my dear readers. This is officially, with this chapter, the longest fan fiction I have ever written and it's no where near its end. So YAY ME!! I also believe that I havediscovered a new way of proof-reading that has greatly improved my writing style and will now be used for my research papers and my actual writing that I plan on publishing. This just proves that fan fiction can serve a greater purpose other than being fanatics living out their sick, twisted fantasies (don't take offense, I include myself in that category). Next, I have discovered that writing Spike is sooooooo much easier than writing Xander, no lie. I don't know why but I end up taking twice the amount of time writing the Xander chapters than the Spike chapters. Lastly, please review. I've checked out my competition in the Spander category; Sewers is one of the best out there. Okay that's a little bragging on my part, but still is it too much to ask for one review? The fact I only have two reviews makes me sad. Apathically sad, but sad nonetheless. _Review, comment, complain, theorized_! Do something! Thank-you, that is all.

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**Chapter Eight:**  
_Talks with Sires_

I should probably mention here that I am gorgeous. This fact should be mentioned as often as safely possible without bragging. Wait a minute, who am I kidding? I love to brag. I'm gorgeous and you all should know this and if you disagree, well you're stupid as mud, aren't you? How do I know that I'm gorgeous? After all, no reflection and all that, right? Well, as Fred use to say there is empirical evidence for it, yeah? You see, while I was gathering up the carnage created by Xander's phone massacre I got a little overheated (okay so I got annoyed with the way this new trench coat was dragging me down, its way heavier than the original) so I slothed off my outer gear and was walking around wearing my t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Apparently, I look all sexy with just a t-shirt and a pair of trousers on because the four slayers started staring at me like I was a piece of hot, steamy meat on a desert island. Makes a vampire feel all wanted. Grant you, they were attempting to be all sneaky about it which caused me no end of amusement. I'm just sitting here, minding my own business, on the couch with four phones laid out the coffee table in front of me and another in my right hand while there is a screwdriver in my left attempting to put the bloody thing back together and the girls take turns finding reasons to walk by me and drool. It's adorable! And I am finding all sorts of ways to exploit it. Like for instance, Patricia walks past me for the fourth time on the way from her room upstairs to the kitchen for a drink of water. I flex a little and am rewarded by the honey sweet smell of her arousal and hear a tiny little whimper. I smirk down at my job. On her return trip I say "You know, you keep drinking like a fish, you're going to need grow a set of gills there, Bubbles." I see her blush, a deep, dark red, out of the corner of my eye as she rushes upstairs. I giggle a little to myself as I finish fixing the phone. If I'm right then . . .Ah there she is, right on cue. "Hullo, Emma." She had swaggered out of the practice room smelling of sweat and contentment. At the sound of my voice she jumped, her scent changing to add a little fear and embarrassment as she raced into the bathroom as I pick up the next phone. Alright, I know, I know. I have a little too much fun messing with them, but its really quite precious how innocent they are. Got to get my kicks somewhere, its not like I can go about it like I did in the good ole days, got me a pesky soul. Besides, these four little girls, I could just eat them up, literally. So easy to fluster. It just has me in giggles, it does. Alex should be next. I put down my project and stretch, my hands reaching up to the ceiling designed to hit its highest point as the little redhead bounces down the stairs to haveher go in the practice room. I yawn and drop my arms to look over at her. "Hullo Firecracker." She blushes but keeps my eye contact. Brave girl. A slayer ought to have some nerve.

"Hello, He-Who-Flirts-With-Everyone." I grin and her blush deepens. Its so cute!

"Am I that obvious?" I ask sincerely, she nods and I wrinkle my nose, grinning. "Ah well, can't stop now. Having too much fun." I stick my tongue out of my mouth and balance the tip of it on the top of my teeth, an obscene gesture if it wasn't for the Cheshire grin I'm sending her way at the same time. She rolls her eyes at my attics and continues walking. I pick up the broken phone again and go back to fixing it as Alex walks into the practice room, giggling. I fixed the phone and picked up another. So far the damage done had been minimal and easy to fix. Hell, I managed to siphon cable and electricity into my crypt back in Sunnydale, fixing telephones is easy as sin in comparison. Alright, two down, three to go. I start humming a Sex Pistols song as I start in on the next phone so I almost, _almost_ miss Kenya attempting to sneak out. "And where do you think you're going, sunshine?" I smell her embarrassment from where I am sitting. God, I'm good. Literally.

"Out. I am required to grocery shop when Xander is away." She tells me.

"Nice try there, Sugar Plum, but no cigar. Xander went shopping before he left for Scotland."

"Now you follow the rules?" I can practically hear her eyebrows raise in the quality of her voice's incredulity. Sweet chit, isn't she?

"When I'm the one that has to uphold them? Yeah. Don't worry, pet, when Xander gets back I'll go back to being the fun daddy that takes you kiddies for outings and ice cream. And alcohol for me." I beckoned her over. "C'mere." She obliged, bracing her hands on the back of the couch and leaning down over me.

"Can I help you?" I crane my head back to look at her. She is wearing a purple track suit with pink piping and her braids are held back in a ponytail. Earbuds dangle around her neck and a wire leads down to a hip pocket were I can see the outline of a MP3 player bulging out.

"You can help me with putting these phones back where they belong. Here these three are done. You can go jogging later." She grabbed the one the was suppose to be in Xander's room first and then came back for the one for the kitchen and then the one that was meant to be in one of the girls' rooms. By the time that she finished I had finished the last land-line phone and was working on Xander's cell. She replaced the phone and then joined me on the couch.

"So. . ." she started as I focused my attention on the little bit of technology in my hand. Honestly, when I was human we still wrote letters and left calling cards; then came the telegram, then the tele_phone_, then cordless phones, now cell phones and e-mail. Being immortal is great because you get to watch the progress of the world, you get to live history. I don't understand Angel, why would you want to be human after being an immortal? Oh, I know that I went up against him pretending that I wanted his destiny but really? I don't. I just did it to piss Angel off. He was so prissy about it. Yeah, I'm still a little evil. So really when you look at it Angel's precious Shanshu is safe from me, yeah? "How long have you had a crush on Xander?"

"Don't have a crush on Harris. He has a crush on me though." Serves him right, drunk kissing me like that. Let the chitlets think that he's not so straight. Bastard.

"So are you going to act on it?" Huh? Did she not hear my answer?

"What are you on about?" I switch tools and flick the little computer chip back into place on the phone.

"Xander's crush on you. Are you going to act on it? Because it is pretty obvious that you find him attractive." That brought a smile to my lips.

"Is it now?" I glance up at her. "Never occurred to you that you might be way off?"

"No." She bent her head to try and get my attention back on the conversation, there were beads in her hair that clinked together with the movement. "I am rarely wrong on these sort of things."

"Where are you from anyway? Can't quite place your accent." Borrowing a trick from Xander's bag, avoidance. She smiled.

"It is truem English is not my first language. I guess that is why my accent is so . . . stilted? My mother is French and my father was American, they met in Nigeria when he was in the military and she was stationed by the Red Cross. I was named after the first country my mother was sent to when she joined the Red Cross."

"Stuff of historical romance novels that."

"I suppose. I grew up in Nigeria but my mother moved us back to France when I was fourteen, shortly after that the slayer dreams started and I was found by Xander's people. My only. . .stipulation? My only stipulation was that I stay close to my mother."

"How old are you now?" There was something about her story that was ringing bells in my head. Loud, annoying, church bells. In my head.

"I am fifteen. I have been speaking English fluently only for about seven months now." That explains it. "Xander has been teaching me in exchange for French lessons." Weird choice of an English professor but I suppose to you make do with what you can get.

"Your mother is the contact inside the Red Cross who got the human blood for me, isn't she?"

"Yes." Cool. Kenya is a girl I think I want to befriend, never hurts to have a friend that can get you real human blood. Also? She's half-French. She'll grow up to a real beauty if she's not kill in the next couple of years. Maybe I'll look her up when she's, you know, legal.

"If you want we can switch to French. I'm pretty fluent, meself."

"That is okay. I need the practice. But I really think you should do something about Xander." Like a dog with a bone, this one. Won't let me get her off topic for too long. Focus is always good in a slayer, not so much when I don't feel like discussing my friend's sudden and inexplicable crush on me. Some things are just better left unexamined.

"Like what? There is no proof he's having groiny thoughts about me."

"Yes there is. He blushes every other time you speak. It is the blush of a man who is attracted but afraid to act on his desires." And she's how old again? Fifteen?

"You read too much slash fanfiction."

"It breaks the monotony of slay, train, slay, bicker with Emma, watch Emma bicker with the others, train, and, oh, slay very nicely. Besides with the way Xander and you dance around each other, it is as if I am living a fanfic."

"And if you were a character in a fanfic what would you do?"

"Exactly as I am doing right now; encouraging you to, as Americans would say, 'tap that'."

"What do you suggest I do? Seems bad taste to just throw him down and have my wicked way with him right after his girlfriend dies."

"Then perhaps a more subtle approach is in order?" I snort in amusement.

"You really don't know me that well, do you? I don't do subtle."

"Why not?" I shrug.

"It's just not in my nature." I click the battery in place and screw the cover back onto the phone. There, all done.

"Fixing the phones was a good start."

"This was nothing. Figured you lot would need contact with the outside world eventually. Kinda hard to do with the phones all broken."

"Xander will not see it that way. He will see it as an act of kindness and treasure you for it. As well as watching out for us." That sounded like Harris alright.

"Just doing the right thing." I shrug, still staring at the cell in my hands.

"And that, to Xander, is important. And if you are so concerned about us staying in contact with the outside world you should let me go for my jog." She added. I looked up at her and grinned.

"Nice try." She stood and stretched.

"It was worth it." She told me and then went down the hall to join Alex in the workout room. I stare back down at the cell phone and then stand up. I start dialing the number I have memorized. I am already overdue and Angel will probably be half-assed with worry by now. I go into Xander's room to make the call semi-private, it's not like the girls can't listen in at the door. I have the receiver at my ear by the time Angel picks up on the first ring.

"Angel."

"Spike." I say sarcastically.

"Spike? Where are you? Do you have the book? Why are you behind schedule?" Just frothing over with concern about my well-being, isn't he? Warms my non-beating heart. Not. Well, I can fix that.

"I was attacked and I'm bleeding out and I don't know when he's coming back. Help me, sire." I whine. I can practically hear him start to panic. Oh what I wouldn't give to see his face right about now. Might ruin the prank but, maybe a hidden camera? Like the "evil trio" had watching Buffy? "Evil trio", my ass, I had toe jam more evil that the three of those losers. Minions at best.

"Oh god Spike, where are you? I'm on my way. Just tell me where you are." Demanding, isn't he? He's probably grabbing his coat and a sword, clutching the phone to his ear like it's a lifeline. Ponce.

"I feel so weak. You got to listen closely. I'm kinda fading, Angel." I say softly. Is he so stupid to forget I can't die of blood loss? Apparently.

"I'm listening, Spike. Just tell me where you are."

"Are you listening? Please tell me you're listening, Angel."

"Yeah, Spike, I'm listening."

"I'm-I'm-" I stutter. "just south of **BOREDOM**_, you nit_." I cackle. I love messing with people and some, like Angel, make it so easy to do with their hero complexes.

"God, why do I even bother?"

"Don't pray, you're a vampire. If He's real then he wouldn't listen to you, yeah?"

"Shut-up, Spike." I do. After about thirty seconds I hear Angel sigh and say "Spike? Are you still there?"

"Yeah but you told me to shut-up. So I did. Make up your mind, Peaches. Or can't you? Is that hair gel finally seeped through your skull and short-circuited your brain? Oh please tell me it has, make a vampire's day and tell me you're brain-damaged by way of product."

"You're one to talk, Spike. With all that bleach."

"Yeah well, I can still function where as you, on the other hand, can't even form a decent comeback." Some things change whereas others, like the relationship between me and Angel, not so much. It's nice to have a bit of continuity in one's immortal existence. Even it is with the 'Dark Avenger'. Here is where I snort derisively and roll my eyes. 'Dark Avenger', my lily white ass.

"What do you want, Spike?"

"World peace, a steady blood supply that doesn't involve _too_ much carnage, and an Oscar-worthy movie with Angelina Jolie wearing a bikini." I'm a simple man with simple wants.

"Spike."

"Too much? Alright, strike the world peace."

"You know, I would think that having Buffy love you would be on that list." I sit down on the bed and am suddenly washed in Xander's scent. Why wasn't Buffy on the short list of what I wanted?

"Already classified her as out of my reach. Only so long a bloke can chase after something he can't have, yeah? Maybe I've matured and moved on without realizing it."

"You, mature?"

"Bite me, Angel."

"Spike, where are you?"

"Still in Paris. My little outing hit a rather large snag."

"How big a snag?" Exasperation colors the broodmeister's voice. Probably thinks I got in a bad way with some gambling and scary demons. He really couldn't be more off, could he now?

"Oh about the size of Xander and four slayers."

"Dammit, Spike." Relief and annoyance bled through the phone. You know, went he's all soulless he's so much harder to read. Humanity is seeping through everything he does. Hope I never get like that.

"Tell me about it. I got stuck watching the mini-slayers because Xander had to go back to Scotland for a funeral."

"Who died?" Worry crept back into Angel's voice. Just because he has a soul does not mean he has to be this pathetic. Look at me! I'm not pathetic. . .I don't think.

"Oh don't get your panties in a twist, you ponce, it was no one we know. Just a chit named Renee that Xander was dating. He was real torn up about it. Broke every bloody phone in the house."

"Poor Xander."

"Oi! No fake sympathy. You hate Xander."

"I don't hate Xander. He doesn't like me but I have nothing but respect for him. He's shouldered more responsibility in his short life than most people dream of and did it with courage and humor."

"You hate him."

"I-well-he's somewhat annoying."

"Well so am I."

"There. I feel for Xander what I feel for you."

"Repressed sexual tension?"

"Spike."

"You know he stopped wearing all those clashing colors. He's all sexy now, what with that eye patch. Yum. Did that mental image get your engine revving, big boy? Cause it sure did mine." I can hear the sound of a hand slapping an overgrown forehead. "What? Did I just give you enough wank material for a full century?"

"You're twisted, Spike."

"I learn from the best, Angel."

"So I should take it that you don't have the book." That's my sire. Always business, never pleasure. Of course if he mixed business and pleasure, he'd be a hooker. And happy. Or at least less broody.

"If you should take it that way, then you should take it right. Is the contact still waiting?"

"Yeah. She called me a day ago saying you hadn't shown up."

"I was dealing with a drunk, emotionally distraught Scooby."

"Yeah, they're kinda hard to deal with when they get like that."

"Tell me about it."

"You sound like you need a smoke."

"I do, I really do. What a time to quit, yeah?" That got a chuckle out of the old big lug. A kind of guilty-sounding, self-deprecating chuckle, but, hey it was Angel, what do you expect? Side-splitting laughter? Not so much.

"Poor Spike. Missing his addiction."

"Yeah. Might have to console myself with the two big bottles of good Irish swag I got in the kitchen."

"You do not."

"Do too."

"Xander would never. . ."

"_Xander_ bought me one of the bottles." I snickered back.

"No kidding."

"No, I'm not." I smile into the phone.

"He must have missed you."

"Yeah, the only cock in the underage hen-house, I'll say he did."

"Spike, don't be crude."

"Have you forgotten who you're talking to in your old age, Angel? I'm nothing if not crude. _Duh_."

"So you want me to ask the contact to hold out for another couple of days?"

"Yeah. Can't exactly drag four slayers with me and Xander kind of has me under lock and key. Though he did promise not to tell Buffy and the others about me which is something. Best if you tell the contact to lie low for a bit. I got to find a way out of here first."

"I can't believe you got outsmarted by a Scooby. . . again. On second thought, yes I can. Sorry, forgot who I was talking to for a moment in my old age."

"Oi! You've been outsmart by them plenty of times. Hell, you've been outsmarted by me on an occasion. So don't be getting all cocky because I've been kidnapped out of the sewers by Xander when he had four slayers to back him up." No need to tell Angel that I knocked the slayers out and then was guilt-tripped into being kidnapped. That bit of information just isn't important. At least in my humble opinion.

"You've never outsmarted me, Spike, or has Paris made you delusional?"

"You know, sometimes, I really miss Angelus."

"Bite me, Spike."

"Name the time and place, lover-boy."

"Spike."

"Angel."

"Cut it out."

"No and with a continent and an ocean in between you and me I'm going with that there's nothing you can do to make me."

"Wait until you get back with the Grimmoire."

"Is that a promise? Are you going punish me because I'm being bad? Ooo, now I'm all tingly."

"Yes I'm going to punish you. I'm going to tie you to a chair and force you to watch Barney and old Dracula movies." That's mean.

"That's mean. What are you? The King of Torture or something?"

"Well, yeah."

"Look, go call your contact. I'll call you when I get loose and then you can call your contact again and I'll fetch your barmy book, yeah?"

"Fine. Bye Spike."

"Bye, Angel. Oh wait!"

"What?"

"You're fat. I just felt the need to throw that out there." There was a click to tell me he hung up. I smirked down at the phone. Like I said, some people just made it too easy.

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**_Author After Notes_****:** I feel like should be saying something along the lines of "Another chapter done and another step closer to the end." But that seems a little too clingy for my tastes. A little too cliché. So I am going the other route and saying "Another chapter finished, another chapter further from the beginning." Sounds a little progressive, don't you think? Like I'm moving forward because I am. We all are. Thus the concept of time. Which I apparently have less of this summer than I though I would. Scheduling conflicts suck. I should add that I'm totally infatuated with this guy I'm dating. It's the first time I felt this way about the actual person I'm dating instead of the concept of them. He's special. He's also the first guy I've dated who likes Spike almost as much I do. . .I so want to keep him. I find myself acting like a cross between Harmony Kendall and Fred just to get him to smile. He has a great smile. -sigh-

Signed;

Tropic

_This author loves people who review, at a friendly distance._

TBC


	9. Living in Sin

**_Meetings in Sewers_**

**_By: Tropicwhale_**

**_Disclaimer_**: I am my own person with my own thoughts and intellectual properties that the characters that go by the names of Spike and Xander in this fanfic are not among them, they belong to someone else.

**_Warnings_**: SLASH! CRUDENESS!! BAD LANGAUGE! NUDITY! Somewhat of a sexual content of a homoerotic nature also know as lime. . . Just kidding, this chapter's about bunnies who control plot . . . If you're Anya, turn back now.

_**This chapter is dedicated to**_: Goodfairy who reviewed because of her concern over the amount of babbling. We understand the concern and wish to say in response "ALL HAIL THE BABBLE!!"-Thank you again for the lovely review, m'dear. It really was better than coffee. Yes I said it and I'll say it again. Reviews are better than coffee.

**_Author Notes_**: I got a review! I got a review! I got a review! I got a review! yay. Just so you all know. . . I'm doing the snoopy dance over that. Also this plot has come out of no where and is working really, really well, isn't it? Originally, I was just writing this piece as a shallow throwaway which would ultimately lead to smut but because of the plot, it isn't. Hey, look at me, I'm accidentally deep. ON WITH THE STORY.

* * *

**Chapter 9**:  
_Living in Sin_

It's good to be home. Really good to be home. Relatively, of course because home is where the heart is and mine's a bit dead right now. In the sense that I'm grieving over my girlfriend that died a few days ago and not in the sense that I'm among the walking dead, like vampires, because I'm not, a vampire that is. I just live with one. Named Spike. Who is wandering out of my bedroom wearing absolutely nothing. WHAT THE HELL?

"SPIKE WHAT THE HELL?" Spike made eye contact.

"You're back. Wasn't expecting you until morning and be quiet, the girls are asleep." That makes sense as it is 3:00 in the morning.

"Why are you naked?"

"I usually sleep in the buff, you know that."

"No I don't. Every time I've seen you asleep, you've been clothed-"

"And tied to your chair." Spike concluded with a raise of his eyebrow. Like he has anything to be smug about. So not. My eye flicks downward for half a second and flicks back to Spike's face. Okay, so he's allowed to be a little smug. Just because he's- nevermind.

"So?" Look there that lovely edge of panic to my voice. I was wondering where it went to.

"So the few times you've seen me asleep was when I was tied to a chair and clothed. Not exactly natural arrangements for anyone."

"Like you would know natural. You're so unnatural that it's funny."

"Oi. Eye above the waist, Zeppo." Okay so he caught me staring. Not that I was staring. Nope not me. Not staring.

"What? Nononononononono, I was talking about you being a vampire but since you implicated your hair, at least I think you were implicating your hair because if you were implicating something else-"

"Look, I go get pants on if you stop babbling." Oh look a deal. I like deals. Especially if they get me off the subject of Spike's anatomy.

"Deal. I'll even make you a late night snack." He turns and walks back into my bedroom and I get a perfect view of his tight, white ass. Not that I'm looking. Because of the denial. And the grief. The grief I'm still grieving because of Renee dying not three days ago and going to her funeral yesterday and boy are night flights like the worst. What with the roar of the engine next to you there is no way to get to sleep and no sleep equals a loopy Xander which leads to checking out Spike's lily white ass which is not attractive at all. I'm going to go make blood now. Or-whatever. Midnight snacks. I walk into the kitchen and prep a mug'o'blood for Spike and a bowl of cereal for me. Easy-peasy-lemon-squeasy. I _am not_ inordinately angry. Shut-up. I almost lost my other eye being blinded by too much too pale flesh.

"Hello, pet." I jumped up about three feet into the air. Damn vampires and their sneakiness.

"GAH. Don't sneak up on me, Spike." He looked surprised as he reached pass me to get his blood out of the microwave.

"Didn't mean too. No need to be so angry. How are the girls? How's Dawn?"

"Still giant."

'Wot?"

"Oh that's right you don't know." I sit down at the bar. He joins me.

"Don't know what?"

"Dawn was dating a thricewise and slept with his roommate."

"Yeowch." Spike winced in sympathy. "So what? He got all pissed and heartbroken so now she's thirty feet tall?"

"Yup. That about sums it up."

"Guess I can't call her Little Bit anymore." I chuckle at Spike's matter-of-fact statement.

"No. I guess not."

"How's Red? . . . And Buffy?"

"They're good. They were having this fight about Buffy's ethics and Willow not bringing Kennedy around but they're mostly over it.

"Red broke up with Kennedy?"

"No. It's not that simple. Willow, on some level, doesn't trust Kennedy around Buffy because of what happened to Tara and that hurt Buffy's feelings."

"Didn't know she had any feelings left." Spike glowered at his blood and then gulped it down in one go then shook his head quickly. "Sorry, spent too much time with Sire. What about Buffy's ethics?"

"We were having trouble financing our little army so Buffy lead some of our slayers to rob the Swiss national bank but she did it so that only criminals who had connections with demons would suffer."

"Still doesn't make it right, Xander, even I know that."

"Yeah but-"

"No buts. She's changed, hasn't she? All the human qualities have been burned away. She's not really Buffy anymore, she's her mission. She's like Angel now. Those two really deserve each other. Screwed-up twisted morals, forgot what its like to have fun, to live. I pity them." How does he do that?

"How do you do that?" He smiled a half smile at me. "You haven't even seen her."

"Seen her influence, haven't I? Seen Angel. It comes down to the same. They're so busy saving the world that they forgot to save themselves. It's like when Angelus tried to take out the world. Didn't really think it through, yeah? Forgot that he's a part of the world as well and in destroying it, he destroys himself. But saving the world's a bit trickier. You can save the world and all the innocent lives in it but lose yourself. Look, I saved the world, didn't I? And burnt up, literally."

"But you came back."

"Yeah. But that's not certain. Nothing's certain; not destinies, not love, not even the good fight if you forget what you're fightin' for, yeah?"

"When did _you_ get all wise and insightful?"

"I've always been wise and insightful. _You_ just weren't listening before." He smirked at me, but it wasn't an angry smirk, it was a friendly smirk. It was a nice smirk. Hey, I'm secure enough in my masculinity to admit my friend has a nice smirk. It's just his smile that sends me spiraling into denial. There's a difference. "So everyone's good then? No strange nasties I should be worried about?" Uh. . . Kind of?

"There is one thing. But I want to wait until the girls are up so we all can deal with it. Defcon 4 instead of Defcon 2."

"Alright. I can handle that. I get the bed, yeah?" He starts to stand up.

"Whoa, wait, no. You get the couch, I just spend an accumulative eight hours on a plane with twenty minutes sleep. I get my bed."

"And I spent two days with four teenaged girls all with super strength who alternated between drooling over me and scowling."

"I train them. I deal with that all the time."

"I'm not use to it and that couch has a cross in it. What if I get burned?" He pouted.

"My bed has three crosses under the mattress, two bottles of holy water and a crossbow ridged to the headboard and a pentagram on the floorboards." I point out.

"Wow, you really don't want vampires sleeping in your bed, do you?"

"No." He nodded in understanding.

"Too bad for you I like to live life on the wild side, isn't it?" He leered at me, placed his mug in the sink, ran the water and then bolted to my room. It wasn't until he bolted did I realize what he was up to which is a testament of how tired I am. I add my cereal bowl to the sink and turn off the water. By the time I got to the bedroom Spike was under the blankets feigning sleep and his pants weren't. Dammit, I'm too tired for this. I shut and lock the door and turn out the light and move to get into bed. I'm snuggling under the sheets when I hear Spike roll over to face me. "And what-" He says with a dry sort of alacrity. Yes, I know what alacrity means; Willow's not the only one who knows big words. " Do you think you're doing in _my_ bed."

"It's my bed, I'm tired, and I'm at the point where I don't care I'm sleeping next to a blood-sucking fiend. Good night, Spike." I roll over and fall asleep.

I awake the next morning to the somewhat familiar feeling of my eye patch on the wrong side of my face. I fix it and roll over. Spike is sprawled out on his stomach with the covers somewhere around his waist and a leg hanging over the side of the bed. Well, if there was ever a doubt that Spike slept naked it's gone now! I find myself feeling really gross so I roll out of bed but, after a moment's thought, reach over and pull the peroxide pain-in-my-ass-but-not-literally to the middle of the bed so he's not practically falling out of it and adjust the sheets so that he's properly covered and leave the room. The girls are eating breakfast and watching television as I exit the room. Alex is the first to see me. "XANDER!!" She put her bowl of cereal down and races across the room to jump into my arms. The other girls aren't far behind her.

"Hello, Xander."

"Bonjour, Xander."

"We missed you Xander."

"Yeah Spike wouldn't let us leave-"

"-Didn't even take us patrolling-"

"-said we were on downtime until you got back-"

"I was so bored."

"I know. Don't ever leave us again, Xander."

"You're so much more fun than he is."

"-heard you get in late last night but I figure that you were tired so I didn't-"

"Did you miss us?" They all crowded around me and were talking over each other and were just generally bouncy. I loved every second.

"Yeah I missed you. All of you. But I stink so I'm going to go bath and then we'll catch up, 'kay? Go finish eating your breakfast."

"Alright."

"Okay."

"Fine."

"Missed you, Xander." I got one last hug from Alex and went into the bathroom and shut the door. I decided to forego a shower in lieu of a bath and to just soak the travel grime and stress away. I plug up the tub and turn the faucets to just the right temperature and start to strip. While I'm waiting for the tub to fill up I go through all of the morning rituals that just make me feel alive. Yes that last bit was sarcasm, you don't have to be British and blond to use it. I brush my teeth and use the toilet and wash my face and hands because I'm just weird like that. I don't know why but I've always wash my hands if I go to the bathroom before I take a bath, just a bath never a shower, it's just a little quirk of mine. Leave me alone. . . Finally my bath is ready. I remove my eye patch (always the last thing to go), and sink into the hot water. Well not so much sink as scrunch up because, hey, I'm a big guy and it's a smallish tub but it's just so relaxing and I don't care. I let my head rest against the tiled wall and just chill. The stress of the last week just drifts away and I can think clearly about everything; Spike, Renee, the Grimmoire, everything. That's why I like taking baths once in a while because it helps me think and sort things out. Like right before I asked Anya to marry me and Glory was all after our collective asses I took a bath because I figured, hey, I'm going to die anyway I might as well take a bath and everything just got a little simpler. It's been my thinking place ever since. So do you know what the worse possible thing that could happen when you're in the tub just chilling and you're a demon magnet and in a safe house with a vampire and four teenaged slayers? One of them walks in on you. And Goddess don't I just wish it was Emma?

"You're taking a bath?" an incredulous male voice asked. He's probably looking like Christmas came early for him. But my eye is closed so I don't even care.

"Shut the door, Spike, you're letting all of the warm air out." I order and continue to drift after I hear a small

"Oh" and the click of the door closing. "So why a bath?" I curse under my breath which I know Spike heard and smirked at. "Feeling a little girly after sleeping next to an epitome of manliness such as myself?" I snorted and looked over at him; his hand is splayed across his stomach, his hips are canted out and he's smirking with his tongue halfway out of his mouth. At least he's wearing pants and a t-shirt.

"No." I rolled my head back so the vampire is in my rather large blind spot and close my eye again. I know that pissed him off because ignoring Spike is the fastest way _to_ piss him off. I can hear him move to sit on the closed toilet seat. "What do you want, Spike?"

"Need you to let me go."

"Why?"

"Because I got a mission. It's not like I'm in Paris for pleasure, it's a business trip."

"What's the mission?"

"Can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because it makes me seem all mysterious. Why do you think? It's dangerous and I don't want you involved." I look at him again.

"Say that while I'm looking at you, Spike." He stares at me like a sullen child.

"I don't want you to get more hurt, I don't want these girls to get hurt, this is Angel's battle I'm here on and. . . .its different than Buffy's bad guys. Buffy's baddies, we just wanted to get rid of this slayer, maybe end the world a bit, and wait for the next slayer to pop up and then get rid of her. Angel's villains; they go for the pain. It's the difference between me when I was evil and when Angel was evil. The risks are higher and the potential for lost is greater. I-I can't see you hurt or worse. I care about you and besides Buffy would- not to mention Willow, and the Bit. . . I don't think that they could take losing you, you're what holds them together. And I like these girls, but they're not ready for the biggest bad out there, not yet, they wouldn't be able to protect you. I can't tell you, Xander, I'm sorry."

"Liar."

"Laid it on too thick?"

"Just a bit." I close my eye again and grin.

"Damn. Where did I go wrong?"

"You lost me at the 'when I was evil and when Angel was evil' part. It just didn't have conviction." I say as if I was movie critic.

"Ah. But I still don't want to tell you. My job. It's my job to do, not yours. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, I can get that."

"If you want, you can come along. Be like old times."

"Nay, I trust you." Wow. Never thought I'd say that to Spike.

"Never thought I'd hear that from you." I chuckle at the irony of him speaking my thoughts.

"Never thought I'd say it." He laughs and I look over at him. He looks so carefree and happy. I don't think I ever saw him like that when we were back in Sunnydale. It so different, what changed? And then I realize something. Some of the things that he said just hit me in the face and I feel my eye widen in shock and realization. He's still looking down, looking happy. I mask my shock by closing my eye and relaxing back into the hot water.

"So how is Deadboy?"

"Fine, wait, what?"

"You mentioned that you're here on Angel's mission so he brought you back and now you're back with him?" I look over to see panic and self-disgust chase each other across his face as his looks back at me before it shuts down. It's like someone tried to etch-I-sketch an emotion on his face, screwed up, and then shook it off.

"Actually I ran into him after I came back. Sort of fell into his crowd. Helping out a bit here and there. You know? It's not like I've got anything better to do."

"Well, you know, there's me." Shit, didn't mean to say that.

"You offerin', pet?" Spike leered at me. Oh so not of the good, what with me being all naked and in the bath in front of Spike and so did not mean to say _that_ that way, you know?

"I meant me and my mission here, in Paris, with the girls. Not forever but for a time. Because it's Paris and who wouldn't want to spend some time in Paris, right? Because it's the city of lights and love and there are pretty French girls here because it's Paris, France and wouldn't it be weird if there were no French people in France but then it probably wouldn't be called France. But anyway you could stay here with me . . .and the girls who you like because you said you liked them and, of course, you could have just been being polite because I know those four can get on one's nerves sometimes not that they get on my nerves because they don't, quite the opposite. But I meant me and my mission is something better to do than Angel's mission not that Angel's mission is something bad to do and I meant just my mission because I'm not on the table, figuratively, because I don't want to do you not that you're not attractive because you are, very attractive. I mean just not to me because I'm kind of straight and everything but if I wasn't, you know, 100 totally straight then I'd find you attractive in that way because you are very attractive and I can't seem to stop my mouth from the babbling the worst possible things to babble." At some point in my panic-induced rant Spike smiled at me and at another point he moved off of the toilet seat and sat on the floor next to the tub which is the point where my rambling grew in panic and I was probably turning blue from asphyxiation. When I started babbling about babbling he kissed me. It was a gentle, barely there kiss but it shut me up. "Thanks."

"Welcome." he smiled. I smiled. We smiled. Granted my smile was of the nervous Crap-what-do-I-do-now variety but a smile nonetheless. "You okay?" I nodded. "Good." he smiled again. Wow, what a great smile. "Xander?"

"Yeah?" Suddenly there was a loud knocking at the door and Emma's voice penetrating the wood. I am pretty sure that the Fates either hate me or love me. I don't know which.

"Xander, are you almost done? Because I got to pee." I see Spike drawing in a breath, probably yell something crude, flirty or both back at her so I silence him by grabbing his face and slapping my hand over his mouth. The water sloshed dangerously close to the edge of the tub.

"Yeah. Almost Emma just gimme another minute or two?"

"Okay. I can wait that long." I hear her walk away and release the vampire who was currently in Gameface trying to bite my hand that was covering his mouth.

"Stop that." I let go. "God, you're worse than a puppy."

"Woof." He deadpanned and stood, shifting back to his human face. I reach over and pull the plug and start to stand up. "Xander?"

"Yeah?"

"You do realize you're still naked?" I look down. I forgot that. Shit. I look back at Spike who stole my towel.

"Spike, gimme my towel." I reached for my eye patch and put it on.

"No"

"Why not?" See, I can sound patient. See? See?

"Because" Spike seemed content with giving me just that much.

"Spike, may I please have my towel so I can dry off?"

"Certainly." He hands me the towel. When I finish drying off I realize that Spike is gone and so are my clothes.

"Dammit." I wrap the too small towel around my waist and exit the bathroom. As it was, my luck held as Emma was standing right there. Her eyebrows crawled up her forehead as she took in my appearance.

"Nice towel." She commented.

"Which way did he go?" I ask her. She pointed upstairs and went into the bathroom and shut the door. I was about to chase his scrawny British ass when I realized two things; one, I had an audience of Alex, Patricia, and Kenya who were staring at me with open mouths and two, I had a room with more clothes. I ducked inside and shut the door. "Stupid vampires and their stupid pranks and so going to force feed him garlic because of this." I fling open the door to my closet. Wait, my closet was empty. Hmm. I then proceed to open all my dresser drawers. They're empty too. Double hmm. "SPIKE!!" I roared and (after securing the towel a little bit more) race out of my bedroom and up the stairs to find the vampire that stole all my clothes. Emma had joined her teammates and the four of them seemed content to watch the events that were unfolding. Kenya even had a bowl of popcorn. I ignore them and race upstairs. I can hear evil cackling so I slow down and swing my head from side to side to minimize my blind spot.

Kenya and Patricia's room has a door open while the two others; Emma and Alex's rooms are shut tight. If he think that I'd fall for something that lame, he's got another thing coming. I know that he's in one of the other rooms. I edge the door fully open and go straight for the hidden panel on the far wall. All three of the upstairs rooms are connected by secret passageways that converge and led downstairs to an emergence exit in the practice room for safety's sake. Also it was great for sneaking up on the pilfering undead.

I slid the hidden panel close and crept through the passageway until I can here Spike trying to control his giggling. He was in Alex's room. I slid the panel open as quietly as I could and snuck through. I closed the panel and crept up behind the giggling vampire. Then I just waited. He stiffened and did a half turn and then _squealed_ and jumped about three feet into the air. Oh that was great. I burst out laughing and got hit for my troubles. Still was funny though. "Ow and you _squealed_!" Okay, maybe I should not have sounded so gleeful but we don't have cable and all the shows are in French anyway so I got to get my stupid American style humor somewhere. Spike, on the other hand, looked highly up fronted.

"I do not squeal."

"Shrieked then."

"Nice towel."

"At least I fill it out."

"What are you implying, whelp?"

"That you're a shrimp."

"Am not. I've a perfectly average height for 1880."

"Yeah, except its 2007."

"Yeah, well at least I'm in shape." WHAT?

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"I'm calling you fat." That's not true. This is all muscle.

"I've muscle tone unlike you. You're scrawny. And pale."

"I'm a vampire and you're naked." Only Spike and Cordelia could ever make fact sound like an insult.

"I'm wearing a towel because someone stole my clothes."

"Yeah, you should talk to the girls about that."

"You stole them!"

"What? The girls? Maybe their hearts because I'm such a-"

"My clothes." Seriously Spike can be such a . . .such a _Spike_ some times.

"Actually, no I didn't. It was Alex's idea, I was blackmailed into it." He said matter-of-factly.

"The girls-? Wait, what were they blackmailing you about?"

"Nothing. Apparently, I have the hots for you and won't admit it to myself."

"Wow." I had to laugh at that.

"Yeah" He smiled in appreciation of the ludicrous nature of the idea.

"What's worse is that all of them seem to think _you_ have a crush on _me_." He laughed outright at that. An evil sounding chuckle that rattled like a machine gun. I wanted to kiss him for it. Okay, I've a crush on Spike. Well maybe someone was listening during that gay-me-up rant a couple of years back. Dammit . . .Janet. Ah well, demon magnet. Should have seen it coming. "What's amatter?" Huh?

"What?"

"Did a pretty blond in a bikini walk across your cerebral cortex?" Mm, Spike in a bikini, in a Speedo. That is oddly attractive. Can the man wear anything and not look attractive? Because otherwise that's just cheating. "Because you look a little dazed." Quick cover!

"Aw come on Spike, you know me, I'm always a little dazed."

"So true." He did that thing where he sucked in his cheeks and smirked. Eep. "Come on. I'll help you get your clothes back. By the way, how'd you get in here? The window?"

"Nah, secret panel."

"Sweet." He looked impressed. Yay.

"Definitely." I nodded. Be cool, be cool, be cool.

"Well come on. There's only so much pale, cookie dough flesh a guy can take before he gags. Spike opened and held the door for me. As I walk past him I slap him upside the head and he chuckled.

"YEOWCH!!" He slapped my ass!! "You slapped my ass!" I whirled around and glared at him. His face was a picture of innocence. Yeah, like I'd fall for that.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a picture of innocence, aren't I? Must be your little safe house is haunted." Merciful Zeus he looked smug. I don't know which I want to do more, kiss that look off of him or slap it off.

"Yeah, and I'm a cult TV icon back in the states with thousands of fangirls and boys who think I'm just too hot for words." I walk out the door and have started walking downstairs when I realized Spike wasn't following. "Hey, Bleach Boy, you coming?" He started to follow me with a quiet

"Yeah I'm comin'." We file downstairs and walk into the living room. The girls are staring at us with wide eyes. I pull my hands on my hips and adopt a 'Superman pose' while ignoring the slit that bares my thigh. I can practically feel Spike off to my side in my blind spot and know he's glaring at them as well. We have to make an intimidating pair because the girls start to squirm.

"Where are my clothes?" I asked in my Giles voice. I very rarely have to pull it out so when I do they know I mean business. They all stare at me and then they stared some more. "What?" The girls exchange wide-eyed looks. "Ladies, I need my clothes." I hear Spike snort.

"Probably the last time you'll ever say that."

"Shut up Spike."

"Make me."

"So where are my clothes?" I opt for ignoring him and focus on my charges. "What are you all staring at?" The three girls all look at Emma who sighs and seems to dig up her courage to speak

"You're really hot." The other girls nod their agreement. "Like insanely hot. I mean you wouldn't be able to tell with all the junk food you eat but get your clothes off and wow." She had this smile on her face like when she reads teen magazines and Zac Effron's on the cover.

"You got a bit of drool there, precious." I hear Spike point out. Emma's hand is halfway to her mouth before she realizes he's messing with her. She blushes and glares at him but places her hand at the corner of her mouth to check, just in case.

"Girls?" I'm a little cold and would really like my clothes back. "My clothes?" Patricia reached behind her chair and throws me my boxers, Alex throws me my pants, and Kenya throws me a shirt. I barely catch all of them and in the meantime my towel drops. Patricia yelps, blushes and looks away The others just blush and look away. I bend to pick up my towel and hold my clothes in front of myself. Indecently exposing myself to my charges was not something that I ever wanted to do. "See? That is what happens when you steal my clothes. You get flashed." I start to turn around to go and change in my room and come face to face with Spike. Spike, whose face is completely blank except that raised, scarred eyebrow. "What?" I snarl.

"Nothing mate. Go get dressed." I give a last glare at him and go change. No one likes to be embarrassed and I refuse to be embarrassed by a bunch of high school age girls. I had enough of that when I was in high school. When I'm ready I walk out into the living room. The four girls are all sitting on the couch staring down at their feet looking contrite. Spike was leaning against the wall looking down at them. "Alright, he's out. Go put his clothes back." Spike told them. They scurried to do his bidding. They raced to the practice room and dragged my clothes out by the pile-ful and disappeared, one by one into my room to put them all back. "Look mate, that prank got a little out of hand, m'sorry." Spike apologized. Spike apologized to me. Spike apologized to me, Xander Harris the Zeppo of the Scoobies. What alternate reality did I fall into? And more to the point, can I stay? He looks apologetic too. Well if there was ever a doubt in my mind that he had a soul, it's gone now.

"It's okay. It's just the stuff of nightmares." He smiled at me.

"Good to know." He smiled at me. Did I mention he smiled at me? Boy, do I got it bad.

"Yeah. How'd you-" I gesture eloquently to the bedroom.

"Oh, I threatened to eat them as they slept unless they righted their wrong. And I promised them a scary story later. It's Dawn all over again." I grin at him.

"You should have promised to work-out half-naked. They would been waiting on you hand and foot." I feel a little hot under the collar because of that image, if you know what I mean. Woof.

"Yeah." he looks inordinately pleased with that idea. "Well, its not too late." Whoa, hello there surge of jealousy. "You alright, Harris? You look a little flushed." Spike pushed off the wall and started stalking toward me. Whoa, danger. He got right up into my personal space. Hey, he popped my personal bubble!

"Who? Me? I'm fine. Spike what are you doing?" He placed his hand, wow cool hand, like marble, on my forehead.

"Are you sure you didn't get sick on the plane ride?"

"Oh, uh no. I don't think so." Cold hand, cold hand! Spike's cold hand on my face! And I say again; boy, do I have it bad. Spike backed off and removed his hand.

"Well you don't feel warm." I shrug. Play it cool, Harris, play it off. "Are you sure you're okay? This week can't have been easy on you." Yeah, no kidding.

"Yeah, no kidding." He gave me a lazy half-smile and I really want to kiss him. Is that wrong? Wanting to kiss Spike? Because if it's wrong I don't wanna be right. And when exactly did I turn into Cliché Boy?

"Sorry. You know, if I had my way you would still think that I was dead. Or more dead. Dust, whatever." He shook his head. Probably because my speech patterns are addicting. Heh, that's a funny thought; Spike doing Scooby-babble. But he's right, maybe this week would have been easier if I hadn't met up with him in the sewers. Too late now.

"That's okay. The part I really regret is, you know, Renee-"

"Yeah, I figured that." He gave me this look like 'I'm sorry I'm not her.' kind of look.

"I lost someone but I gained someone, you know?"

"Just a vampire, mate. Nothing like a slayer. In fact, I'm the exact opposite of a slayer, especially a Vampire Slayer." Aw, he's being all modest. That's so cute! Just don't ever tell him I said that. Good or evil, they'd be finding my body for weeks.

"Yeah. But you're special. All souled and Champion-y" I enthused. Which apparently had no effect. "What?" He was looking at me weird.

"It's good to know that under that super cool, badass exterior there's still the dorky, lame donut boy lurking just beneath the surface." Was that a compliment or an insult?

"Oh bite me Spike." Oh eye contact.

"Anytime, Xander." A shiver ran down my spine at that, whether it was out of fear, lust or a mixture of both was something of a confusion. Just then the girls came back into the room. "You lot finished?" A chorus of 'yes' greeted his question. It was then that I remembered we had a mission. Fluffy, fuzzy feelings aside, Harris, focus.

"Alright, line up." The girls fall in. "Ladies . . .and Spike, we have a mission."

"It isn't help the helpless, is it?" Spike asked, slightly disgusted. "Because I already did that. Not much glory in it." I paced back and forth and on a pass passed Spike I slapped him upside the head. Seem to be doing that a lot lately. He just grinned at me like an unrepented thirteen-year-old boy.

"Apparently, Twilight is after this book." I continue. Spike raised his hand. "What?"

"Whose's Twilight?"

"The newest Big Bad." Patricia told him. "He wants to destroy all the slayers, all the vampires, demons, witches, everything supernatural."

"Yeah but what kind of a name is Twilight? Sounds like a hooker to me."

"It's short for the Twilight of Magic." Emma added. Spike rolled his eyes.

"Still a dinky name. Now back in my day we had the Judge, tha Anointed, the Master, Dracula, not that he was much of a villian mind you, Adam, the Initiative . . . and Spike." He sucked his cheeks in and tried to look scary. It worked. But the girls didn't back down. Having Spike around was good training for them. Toughened them up. "Name should strike fear into hearts of your enemies, remind them of what goes bump in the night not the time of day that you go to dinner with your honey. Lame ass name if you ask me."

"Yeah, well . . .there's nothing lame about Twilight. He has minions in the human and the demon worlds. He has his hands in at least one slayer that we know of and he's already used military and witches against us. Not to mention he's already beaten up Buffy in a hand to hand. He dropped a church on her, she's okay, just a little battered but still . . .a church. Well a steeple of a church but you get the idea."

"Well that's what you call dramatic irony. Sorry but there would have been a lot more sympathy if she hadn't dropped a pipe organ on me."

"Oh. Forgot about that."

"Yeah. I didn't."

"But you were evil so not so much on the sympathy on my half either."

"That is not a problem. So this Twilight is a bad guy, yeah?" He motioned me to continue and started to examine his nails in a study of indifference.

"And he's after this book. The Grimmoire of Morgan Le Fay." Spike's head shot up.

"Say what now?"

"The Grimmoire of Morgan Le Fay. You've heard of it?" Spike shrugged indifferently. "Well it's in Paris and we need to find and destroy it." I told my troops.

"Why destroy?" Emma asked.

"Because," I told them. "The Grimmoire has the ability to end the world. Apparently the last time it was used was during the Last Battle of King Arthur and brought about the Dark Ages."

"Yikes. Well that sucks." Alex offered. "So how do we destroy it?"

"I don't know. I bet we burn it. It is a book after all." Thank God, Goddess and Rocky Road Ice Cream that Giles isn't around to hear me talk about burning books. He'd have a cornary.

"I don't think that it'll be that easy, Xan." Spike spoke up. "That book's been around since the fall of the Roman Empire, it's probably tougher than it sounds. Also, we don't need to destroy it, just get it out of Twilight's way, yeah?"

"What do you suggest, Spike?" I got another shrug for my troubles. What was he hiding.

"We should probably focus on where to find the book first, right?" Patricia asked. I nodded.

"So to the books. A good ole fashion research party is what's in order." I say and Spike snorts "Shut up Spike. Yes I know. Go to the books to find the book. Dismissed." We all start to walk away to collect the books (and one laptop) that would help us with our search.

"Actually." Spike said, stopping us all. "I know how to get the book. Just let me make a call."

* * *

**_Author After Notes:_**

So long chapter, really long. Like well over twice the length of the other chapters. 8 pages and change long. I promise this will never happen again. I just can't do it, its a marathon of writing and editing.

_In other news however_:

Exit denial of the Xander and enter the seduction of the Spike. And the people out there in fandom go YAAAAAAY! And then there was plot.

I've been watching old episodes of Buffy on the internet to figure out the speech patterns of Spike and Xander. I still cannot bring my self to watch the last season and a half of the show because of the whole Spuffy thing that just turns my stomach to think about it. I really started hating the characters Buffy, Xander, and Willow at that point because they became so shallow as if that nothing outside their mission was important or worth their attention. Its as if they became machines and it wasn't themselves who suffered because of their degression but Dawn, Tara, Anya, Giles, and Spike. That, my dear readers, is what you call collateral damage and it's not good. So I've been watching seasons 2-4 instead.

Again I reiterate that I have classes and my summer job is starting this week so not so much time to write, but I will make a heroic effort of it, kay? This process will become faster with reviews.

There is forensic evidence to suggest that the human population, as a whole, is getting taller. So if you're short, like Spike (5'9" which was average a century ago), it just means you're less evolved the general population. . .wait, I'm short . . .dammit.

AND laaastly. . .If you missed it at the beginning I'll say it again- I got a review! I got a review! I got a review! And now I have math homework.

Still loving people who review at a friendly distance.

Tropic


	10. Battles in Catacombs

**_Meetings in Sewers_**

**By: Tropicwhale**

**_Disclaimer_**: They're not my characters to own and torment but mine to play with and return. Thus NOT MINE! Except for plot and the random original characters.

**_Warnings_**: Violence. Death. Snark. Slash. Hints of Spike's family life when he was mortal. Turn back now if you have a weak stomach.

**_This chapter is dedicated to_**: jazzy2may for reviewing and favoriting. _AND_ to Goodfairy, who with her second review is fast becoming my favorite reader. Keep it up, ducks, because it is really helping this fic.

**_Feedback_**: No, do not give me any feedback ever again, I mean it. Ah yeah, and if you believe that I have this bridge in London I'd love to sell you. Of course I want feedback. The more the better. I live for checking the stats of this story.

**_Author Notes_**: Here it is, the hump chapter. In the sense that it's the exact middle chapter of the fic not that there is any sex, yet. This chapter had actually three very different ways that I was playing having it go. One of which involved Kenya's mother, another involved the Big Bad that is coming up soon but seeing as I don't want to write another 8 page long chapter I went with the third choice which is what you will get to see now. I happen to like it and hope you do too.

* * *

**Chapter Ten:**  
_Battles in Catacombs_

"I can't believe you were after the Grimmoire. When exactly were you planning on telling me?" Harris said for the oh, I dunno, the umpteenth time! Giving me a bloody headache.

"I wasn't going to tell you, you great prat!" I whirled on him and growled. We're in the catacombs of Paris heading back to the safe house after retrieving the Grimmoire of Morgan Le Fay. The four girls each had a flashlight while Xander and I stalked behind them bickering back and forth. Just like old times. Geez how I missed that. Not. Well my mission for the Great Overly-Gelled One was almost over. Now I just had to get the bloody book into his hands where it will be safe. Of course, Xander felt a midge lied to after I, well, lied to him. Lied by omission, but apparently that's 'same thing'. But like hell I'm going to let go of this book. What's left of Angel Investigations had dibs on it and that is where it's going to go, back to them. "I didn't know that this mission was going to play out the way it did and don't go lying to me and say you had dibs on the Grimmoire because until you went to your girlfriend's funeral you didn't even know it existed. So shove off Harris." I shouted at him. I was tired of his nagging, what was he? My wife? "It goes back to Angel. He said he already knows what to do with it and you don't even have an inkling so it goes to him."

"Uh guys?" Patricia said so weakly it was easily ignored.

"If you noticed, _Spike_, you're outnumbered. You're going to hand that book over and let the slayers deal with it."

"Oh really? How you going to do that? I've beaten your little team in one-on-one and in a group attack and since you lost your eye how are you going to stop me? Hmm, tell me that? It's not like you're a threat to me, Harris, none of you are. So the book goes with me."

"We'll send people after you. You'll be dogged all the way to L.A. I can't let you take that book, Spike. Angel was corrupted and if you're with him then you're corrupted too."

"Uh guys?" Alex asked so weakly that she was also easily ignored.

"That's your policy on everything, isn't it? Nothing is ever in the grey area. Well too bloody bad for you that life is normally a grey area. The world isn't black and white the way you Scoobies wish it was. It never is. Vampires love. Slayers use people and Angel works for an evil law firm to bring it down. Which he did, with my help. So you know what? My money's riding on Angel at the moment because from my own personal experience you lot are acting like a bunch of Initiative creeps so I say again sod off Harris."

"Xander? Spike?" Kenya attempted to get our attention. There was an edge of panic to her voice that, in my anger with Xander Harris's bloody stupid righteousness, was easily ignored.

"Take that back." Xander was fuming. So was I.

"No."

"HEY OLD GUYS!" Emma yelled.

"WHAT?" We both glared at her. She and the others pointed at where their flashlight beams pointed. We looked. There was at least ten vampires and one Shournlach demon in the tunnel beyond us. All of them looked really pissed off. Now for those of you out there who don't know what a Shournlach demon is let me paint you a little mental picture. A Shournlach is about the size of a large hummingbird coloured like magpie with a beak of a parrot and the head of a human, it also has head plumage that starts like a beard but sweeps and back to resemble the hair of an anime character. It's cute and mostly harmless if you're talking brute strength. But that is not what make the Shournlach a threat. What makes it a threat is it is incredibly smart with advance psychic powers including limited mind-control, telepathy, and telekinesis.

_So glad you finally started paying attention to your surroundings._ It whispered in our minds. It felt like someone had taken sandpaper to the inside of my skull.

"What the hell?" Xander asked, nearly bent over in pain. So were the girls. Great, just what I was afraid of. Coming up against something they're not ready to face. But I had had a chip in my head that disallowed me to attack humans for three years that had caused more agony then a little Shournlach could do.

"It's a Shournlach demon. They have psychic abilities to make up for their shrimpy size." I told him, already to fight.

_Ah so you know what I am capable of and you know that it is hopeless. So give me the book._ Already the vampires were creeping towards us. I reach into my duster and finger the stake that was there. _It is hopeless, Spike, give me the book and we'll let you go._ Liar. He'd let me go and destroy the girls and Xander. I tightened my grip on the Grimmoire. I wasn't about to let that happen. _Such resolve to help people you barely know, and who don't like you. Perhaps I will destroy them. But only because it is in my nature to do so. Or perhaps you merely wish to look good for the human male? Such courting rituals are left over from the time when you were alive, William. I see into his mind. Such tactics are wasted on him._

"That may be, Shournlach. But I'm still not inclined to give you the book, yeah? You'll take it to Twilight and he'll use it to end the world. I can't let that happen."

_Ah yes. The soul talking. And the demon. Such harmony within an unnatural creature. You're truly are remarkable, William. Just like your mother wanted._

"That's what they tell me." Two vamps were closing in on my left. There were two trying to out flank us on the right and two in front of us. One held back, the Shournlach on his shoulder.

"_But I have to wonder what your twin would have thought of his babbly Will if he could see you now._

"Shut up. Don't bring him into this." Not Alexander. Stupid demon was just trying to distract me. Just won't let him. Stay on track.

_Ah but already your mind betrays you. Alexander. Xander. Such a twisted little boy you've become, William. Lusting after someone that reminds you of your own twin brother. Loving your sworn mortal enemy? How sick can you get? What would your father say if he didn't degrade into a whoring, opium-addicted madman? Like father, like son._

"SHUT UP! Get out of my head you twisted little peacock!" I dusted the vamp that got too close, my demon visage slipping to the fore. I swipe the legs out from under the second vamp and dust him as well. The slayers finally get their heads back into the game and Emma tosses Xander the flashlight which he catches without a problem and shines it on the Shournlach and his undead perch. Within a few moments two vampires have bit the dust while the rest are on the way to joining them. Kenya and I attempt to outflank the escape route of the Shournlach and the bird takes off from it's perch. Stupid bloody thing. But Xander was quick. He had the light trained on that little monster as it hovers in midair. Kenya takes out the vampire that was attempting to grab the book from me while I sent my booted foot into the face of another. She goes down and Alex takes her out. The vampires taken care of, I turn my attention back to the Shournlach.

_Seems that they are better than you thought, William._

"They're not fighting you. Fledging vampires are easy to deal with. You should have found better minions."

_Oh but I have. Look. _The Shournlach swooped down on us. Three of the girls ducked. Patricia didn't. In fact she did the opposite. She reached up her hand so that the little rat with wings could have a convenient perch. Dammit. She smirked. Sweet little Patricia smirked. _A slayer is a fantastic minion, wouldn't you say, William?_

"Let her go you little-"

_Temper, temper, William. Or are you still showing off for that boy of yours?_

"I'll brake your scrawny neck" I growled. Patricia held up her stake and adopted a fighting stance.

_You'll have to kill her first._ Patricia charged me and I moved out of the way, trying to get at the bird.

"Spike!" Xander said, alarmed. The three remaining girls moved into positions. All of them looking worried that they would have to kill one of their own.

"Shournlach have limited mind-control capabilities. He's only giving action to some of her deepest thoughts."

"She is a slayer." Kenya said in a surprised tone. "It is only natural to try and kill you."

"Yeah well-whoa." I dodge out of the way of Patricia's stake. This isn't the end of William the Bloody, is it? The Slayer of Slayers, Childe of Drusilla and Angelus of the Aurelius Clan, Pet Vampire of Buffy Summers, Champion of Light, Souled Vampire known as Spike is it? Not if I bloody well have anything to say about it. I don't have to kill Patricia but I need to knock her unconscious. "We need to knock her out." I order. The other girls move in so that they can immobilize her. And they did. Patricia smirked as I reached out to quickly snatch the Shournlach from her shoulder. Damn she looked evil. Almost like she knew something I didn't, oh well. I got the demon and broken its scrawny neck. Patricia went limp for a few seconds and then inhaled sharply.

"What happened?" She asked weakly. Alex and Kenya smiled.

"You were being mind-controlled by a demonic pigeon." Alex told her. The three of them laughed and then it hit me. The smell of blood.

"Whose hurt?" The three of them, plus Xander looked confused. We hear an inhale of breath, a gasp of pain. The three girls turn to look at Emma who was standing right behind Patricia.

"Oh my god!" Patricia looked alarmed and sounded panicked. She backed away and there was her stake, imbedded into Emma's chest, right into her heart. Kenya caught her friend and lowered her to the ground. Emma was staring up at us with this shocked and scared expression on her face. Her heart stopped. I could hear it. It stopped and she let out a sigh of her last breath of air. She was gone. Her corpse stared, with unseeing eyes, up at the ceiling of the catacombs of Paris but she was gone.

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**_Author After Notes:_**

Short, I know, but I was having trouble writing this and the last chapter was sooo long that this makes it even.

Scary ass demon. I wouldn't want a demon parakeet messing with the memories of my brother to put me off my fighting game, would you?

It only gets worse after this, especially with how Emma died.

Tell me what you're thinking.

TBC


	11. Deaths of Slayers

_****_

Meetings in Sewers

**_By: _Tropicwhale**

_**Disclaimer:**_ (I stole this one from another writer) None of them are mine. If they were, things wouldn't be the way they are. Joss, UPN etc. etc. own them all, and they need to start looking after them properly (now this part is from me) because they keep getting hijacked by strange fanpeople wearing "I LOVE SLASH" t-shirts which is just odd.

**_Warning:_** Mmm, Angst! Spike being sweet! Seduction Xander-style!. . . I'm sorry but at this point in the story if this stuff squicks you then you're pretty much screwed.

**_This chapter is dedicated to:_** My two fans (because apparently they're the only ones who care :p). Jazzy2May and Goodfairy. One of which thinks me cruel and the other was blown away. I love waking up in the afternoon and reading your reviews with my coffee. It just gives me a happy. It also inspires me to outdo myself with the incoming chapter so you aren't let down. Thank you.

**_Feedback:_** I can has feedback? (LOLcats rocks my socks)

**_Author Notes:_** Wow. I'm so ecstatic that the last chapter got the response that it did. I was really surprise that you guys reviewed so quickly. It blew me away. I though the last chapter was a little weak but when it comes down to it she had to die, the actress playing her just wanted more money than we could afford. I am not repented from my choices and if you want to know something, I didn't like Emma anyway. She reminded me of these two girls, one in my circle of friends and one I babysat, both of who are monsters that like picking on others' faults because its fun. It's like the other kids in Xander's hyena pack! But if there are those of you out there in the interweb-land that liked what little airtime I gave to her and empathized with her, oh well, I guess I'm just evil. Does anyone ever actually read the Author Notes anyways? ON TO THE STORY!!

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**Chapter 11:**  
_Deaths of Slayers_

I can't believe it. Emma was dead. I've never lost one of my girls before, one of those I was suppose to protect and guide, keep safe. Now I know how Giles must have felt when Buffy died that last time. It's hard. I can't believe she's dead. I've never lost one of my girls before. But that's not entirely true. I've lost slayers before. I lost Buffy and Kendra and Renee and two girls in Africa whose names I can barely remember and whose faces bleed together. I've lost more than enough girls that are a part of the home base squad in Scotland. But Emma was . . . I had gotten to know Emma. She wasn't just a slayer. She wasn't just a friend or one of the faceless hundreds that are a part of the army. She was my slayer. If I could ever be considered a Watcher it would be to these four, now three, girls. Emma was strong, resilient, resourceful. She knew her own strengths and weaknesses and would push herself and her teammates to try harder. That's why she was squad leader and not one of the other girls. She was the most direct. She could be a bit mean at times but that didn't negate her good qualities as a leader. She reminded me of Buffy and Cordelia. Strong and stubborn. She was always good for a headache, that was for sure. She had her faults, hey, who doesn't? But she was one of mine. Spike nudged me. "Quit brooding." He told me.

"I just lost one of my charges and my girlfriend in less than a week of each other. So I'm allowed to brood." I snipped back quietly. There was no fight in me right now.

Back in the catacombs he had been the first to recover from the shock of Emma dying. He had moved to pick her up but I beat him to the punch and carried my charge back to the safe house. He had simply ushered the remaining slayers into the house and shut the door behind the group. He had then led Patricia into the bathroom. The poor girl had been in shock. She had killed a teammate. Never mind the fact that she was under the mind control of a demon but it still sent her reeling into practically a comatose state. Spike ordered Kenya to look out for her and to get her in a cold shower to wash off the blood and grime of the battle. I, in the meantime, had laid Emma's body on the couch and pulled the stake out of her heart. Alex came in and started cleaning her up with a wet rag. She also changed Emma's clothes at which point I left to make some coffee for everyone. I just couldn't look at the naked dead body of my charge. When the coffee (and the blood for Spike) was well on its way to being ready I went back out. Alex had changed Emma into a long tan skirt and a white blouse and was sitting on the coffee table, her hand covering her mouth and crying silently. I sat down next to her and hugged her. She started sobbing into my shirt. I just sat there looked over her head at Emma. Her short brown hair was brushed and in order and she looked so peaceful. Spike had come over and taken Alex away to her room so she could rest. After a moment, Kenya had led Patricia out of the bathroom to the bedroom as well. She had nodded to me and lead the other girl up the stairs. After a moment Spike returned and ordered me to stop brooding and I snarked back, albeit a little lackluster, but that pretty much leads to the here and now. Spike sat down on my blind side on the table and gathered me into an one-armed hug.

" 'm sorry." he told me. I merely closed my eye and concentrated on my breathing. Distantly the microwave dinged.

"Your blood's ready." I can feel him nod and then he moved away into the kitchen, leaving me alone for the moment with Emma. She was such a firecracker its weird to think that she's dead. I hear footfalls on the stairs and turn my head to see Kenya. The dark-skinned girl is holding up like a true champion. She had dressed in a red sarong and has a red wrap holding back her hair. Generally, in Africa, red is the color of blood and life and thus death. "Hey."

"Hello." She said and moved to stand at the back of the couch and to look down at her dead teammate. "I called my mother from Emma's room. She is coming over to help out. She is bringing her famous homemade garlic-potato soup sans garlic. I told her about Spike having an allergy to it." I smiled. Kenya's mother, Beledia, was like Joyce Summers in a lot of ways. Like making potato soup for us when things went a little rough. It didn't get rougher than this. Spike came back in, drinking his blood.

"Your mum the Red Cross lady?"

"Yes."

"Cor. That's nice of her."

"She is a wonderful person." Kenya looked mildly proud. She had a right to it. She looked down at Emma and the look faded. "In Africa, thousands of people die every day from pestilence, famine, and war. The four horsemen of the Apocalypse. Death, War, Famine, Pestilence. With my _mama_ in the Red Cross I grew up with that. I understand that life isn't always pretty and sometimes too short. You were there, Xander, in Africa. You know what it is like. The monsters are mostly of the human variety. I have had friends die on me before and as a slayer, I doubt that Emma will be the last. I just wish she had not died the way that she did. Poor Patricia will never be the same for it. Stupid, evil demon. May he rot in a hell filled with demonic kitties with a taste for pigeon." Spike snorted. "What?"

"You've been hangin' 'round Xander too long, Precious. That is something he would have said. Not the deep, insightful bit about life and death but the bit about the demon, that has 'dumb Xander line' written all over it." I slapped him upside his head. He and Kenya laughed. I grinned. Patricia appeared at the bottom of the stairs with Alex at her side. "Hey Bits, how you two holding up?" Alex lead Patricia into the living room and made her sit down in an armchair.

"I'm better. She wanted to come downstairs." Alex told us. She turned her attention to the other girl. "Patricia, I'm going to take a shower now. Are you going you be okay?" she asked softly. Patricia turned to her and nodded before turning her attention back to Emma's body. Alex sighed, stood, and went into the bathroom. Spike stood and went to sit on the arm of the chair next to Patricia.

"How you doing in there, Bubbles?" he asked. She turned her head sharply, giving him an ugly look, and pushed him off her chair. Spike fell to the floor with a THUMP and a surprised expression. However, it was apparently the catalysis Patricia needed because she started sobbing into her hands, her long brown hair falling like a waterfall around her face. Alex bolted out of the bathroom at the sound, half dressed in her pants and bra; she and Kenya were at Patricia's side in moments, hugging and rocking her. I joined in another moment later holding my squad in a group hug. All the girls were openly crying now as Spike and I made eye contact over their heads. It wasn't until I looked at him did I realize that I was crying too. I stood, the girls immediately looking at me as I wiped away my tears.

"We should decide what to do with her body." The girls, except for Patricia who continued to sob, steeled themselves. "Do any of you know if she had family?" They shook their heads. "Then we'll have to find a place to have a funeral pier for her. We're going to have to burn the body." That was the wrong thing to say because they started crying harder.

"Mate, maybe this should wait until later?" Spike asked.

"It can't." I told him. He gave me a serious look.

"Yes it can." I wanted to argue with him. I really did. He didn't have a right to come in here and tell me how to deal with the death of one of my slayers. He stood from where he had ended up in a heap on the floor and motioned me to my bedroom. I followed him and when we were in the room he shut the door shadowing us in a half-gloom. "Look, you can get angry at me all you want but those girls out there aren't ready to even think about burning Emma's corpse. Give them a hour or two, yeah?" He was right. Why was he right? I didn't want him to be right. So I slugged him. It sent him reeling a couple of steps back and when he looked back up at me, his face was all ridged and hard. "You wanna hit me? Fine. But don't go taking your anger out on those girls. I know you're grieving but that doesn't give you a right to be callous about it. You'll hurt them more." His face slide back into his human guise. He was right. I still didn't want him to be right but-

"Spike." I sob covering my eye. I just collapse onto the floor. He was there, in an instant, holding me and making soft shhing noises.

"It's alright, pet, just let it out." He was rocking me and, I realized with some surprise, that he was singing to me very softly. "_Oh don't deceive me, Oh never leave me. How could you use a poor maiden so?_" I laughed a little, but choking on the bile in the back of my throat that comes with crying. He laughed and sung a little louder. "_Remember the vows that you made to me truly. Remember how tenderly you nestled close to me. Gay is the garland, fresh are the roses I've culled from the garden to bind over thee._" I pull away to look up into his eyes. Spike has a pretty singing voice, higher than his normal speaking tones, a tenor I think its called. It was soothing and I felt better because of it. He stopped singing and was just holding me in his arms. "Feel better?"

"Yeah, thanks, Spike."

"No problem, pet." I drop my forehead onto his and he smiles. "You going to be okay?"

"Yeah. Think so." We just smile into each other's eyes for a moment, leaning into each other. I know I'm distraught, and probably reaching out to the only other hu-adult that can understand what I'm going through, yadda yadda psychobabble yadda. I don't care. I want to kiss Spike. I want to-I don't know exactly, kinda new territory for me, ya'know-but I want Spike. Wow, breakthrough. I smile at him. He smiles back. But does he want me? That is the 64 thousand dollar question, isn't it? Well he did kiss me while I was in the bath but that was more to shut me up than anything else. And from what I can remember of that night a few days ago with the whiskey and the grief-oh, oh-so of the bad. Wait- oh there might be hope. "Hey, Spike?" He shifted so we were probably what can be considered cuddling, hah! I was right! he was a secret cuddler! So we're cuddling (of the good), our foreheads still touching. I looked down though, he kinda has intense eyes sometimes. Makes it hard to maintain eye contact for long.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you three questions?" Ha! Try and outsmart me on that one. He grinned at me. Okay, made him laugh. Now wait for the bait to hook.

"Well you already asked two. What's your third." Hook-line-and-sinker! Harris shoots, he scores! Homerun! Touchdown! Goal! Whatever the term for a scoring point in cricket! "Xander?" Ooh, pay attention. Cuddly vampire wants your attention.

"Sorry, wandered off there for a second."

"I could tell. What were you thinking of?" Uh, the short answer?

"Sports." He moved his head away from mine and gave me a weird look. One where his eyebrow rose, his lips pursed out partially and quirked to the side. It's a look that said 'And you're one of the crack team that foiled my every evil plan? What the bloody hell.' "It would make more sense if you were in my head." I told him and I got the 'You're not playing with a full deck are you?' look. That's a fun look.

"What's your question, pet?"

"Do you remember that night, after I found out that Renee died and there was a lot of whiskey and soccer involved?" Spike stiffened and made to pull away. I grabbed at his forearm to keep him in place.

"Yeah." He said cautiously. Crap. Did you know as a general rule that you shouldn't put the non-chipped vampire on edge? It's a good rule. Alright, Harris, screw your courage to the sticking place. I edged a little closer.

"Do you remember what you told me?"

"Vaguely." What was with the Oz-like answers? Usually you can't get Spike to shut-up, now it's like pulling teeth to get him to answer me.

"Well . . ." I lean in to kiss him. He's just sitting there looking vaguely shocked and cautious and I lean in, tilt my head, and go in for the kill. This is it, boys and girls, Xander L. Harris is going to kiss Spike. He is setting himself up as coffin-bait like so many good wholesome boys and girls before him. He's stepping off the heteros-only band wagon and joining the bi-sexual soul train. I can't believe I'm doing this. Time slowed down. My heart was hammering out a tarantella. I couldn't breathe and I felt light-headed. Of course that last probably had something to do with the fact I was holding my breath. Our lips were less than a millimeter apart, he's still got this stunned look on his face like someone hit him on the back of the head with a two-by-four. Which, by the way, has happened to me. It really does hurt. So close to kissing him. I close my eyes and hope for the best. There was a knocking on my bedroom door. I pull away. "Yeah?" I call out. To steal a popular Spike phrase BLOODY HELL. So close. Grrrr- Argh.

"Xander? Spike?" Spike got up and let me to collapse on the floor without his support. Gah! He opened the door wide. It was Kenya. "My mother is here." She paused. "Xander, why are you on the floor?" uh?

"I fell." Spike's eyebrows crawled up his forehead. I've never met anyone who could say whole paragraphs with just his eyebrows!

"He fell. It was amusing." But he covered for me. Sweet! Go Spike. Kenya's eyebrows rose at that.

"Alright. Potato soup will be ready as soon as _Mama_ heats it up." Kenya said and went out again.

"Okay. Good." I said. Spike looked at me.

"You are a crappy liar." He told me and walked out. Ow, that hurt. It shouldn't but it did. I got up, dusted myself off and walked out into the living room. Beledia LeBrun was in the kitchen stirring up a pot filled with potato soup.

"Hello, Ms. Beledia." I stuck my head into the kitchen. She smiled. She was a tall mocha-skinned woman with a broad, easy mouth and soft curly brown hair. She smiled at me.

"_Bonjour_ Xander." She said with a thick French accent. The smile faded. "I am sorry about Emma. She was- a girl who knew what she wanted. Soup? I made it without garlic because Kenya informed me that your _friend_, Spike, was allergic." The way she said 'friend' had me wondering that whether or not Beledia knew something about Spike that she shouldn't. Beledia knew her daughter was a slayer, sort of. She knew her daughter had increased strength and speed and all the slayers' powers but, like most parents that are around the world whose daughters joined Buffy's army, she is under the impression that it is just a natural occurrence and that we specially train these females to control their strength to function in normal society. They know nothing about the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness their little girls face everyday. Beledia was sweet about it. She didn't ask why I occasionally bought the reject blood from the Red Cross or why one of her daughter's 'schoolmates' was dead because of a big hole in her chest. She just accepted all of the weird stuff and didn't ask questions. It seems that people repress and ignore the weird stuff even outside of Sunnydale. Spike popped his head into the kitchen and gave her that grin that he gives to mothers and little sisters. That 'I'm sweet, trust me' smile. I love that smile.

"Heard my name." Beledia gave him a big smile. He smiled back. She was instantly charmed. Yeah, and he claims he never used thrall.

"I was just saying to Xander how I made my famous homemade garlic-potato soup without garlic because my daughter tells me that you are allergic." Spike smiled some more. Now it was getting on my nerves.

"_C'est un peu vous. Merci_." He said. Spike knew French? Since when?

"_Vous parlez français_?" She looked surprised. Spike rubbed the back of his neck and looked down. I can't believe it. He looks bashful. I didn't know Spike could do bashful.

"_Pas très bien. J'essaye_."

"_Non-sens. C'est très bon_." She made a dismissive gesture. Spike grinned and looked bashful again. Is that how he did it? Charmed moms, I mean.

"_Merci. Je n'ai pas été en pratique pendant quelque temps. Ma mère me l'a enseigné quand j'étais très jeune_." Beledia grinned at him. I know that look. That is the look Joyce gave Spike a lot. The 'aw I wish I had you for a son' look. HOW DOES HE DO THAT? Spike looked over me and smiled. "_Parlons l'anglais. Xander semble un peu perdu_." She smiled and looked over at me. Why do I feel like the joke was on me?

"_Il fait, effectivement. Vous le soignez beaucoup_?" Spike looked shocked but recovered quickly, glancing in my direction.

"_Il est compliqué_." She laughed again.

"_Quand n'est-ce pas_?" She asked. He shrugged as she taste-tested her soup. "Xander? Can you get me the salt?" I obey her and hand her the salt. She sprinkled some in and mixed a little more. "Taste this." She orders. I do. It's good.

"Perfect. As always, Ms. Beledia." She smiles.

"You." She points at Spike. He splayed his hand on his chest and raised his eyebrows. Anyone else notice that he hasn't said a single world to me since we left the bedroom? What was that about? "Get bowls."

"I don't know where they are."

"I'll get them, Beledia." I told her. I move to the cabinet.

"Thank you, Xander, but I told Spike to get them." She glared at the vampire. He sighed and did as he was told. I pointed to the right cabinet and with no more a nod in my general direction he got out enough bowls for everyone. What did I do?

"Less than five minutes of knowing me and already your bossing me around." He told her. She smiled at him and took the bowls from him.

"I'm a mother. It's written into my DNA." He giggled at that as she started filling up bowls of soup and placing them on a tray with soup spoons. "I am going to carry this out to the girls. You two can fill up your own bowls." Spike jumped to her 'rescue'.

"I'll carry the tray in, Ms. Beledia." She slapped him away.

"No. I'm not some doddering old woman. I can carry a tray." She told him, grabbed the tray bustling out of the kitchen to leave me and Spike in awkward silence. He looked at me. I looked at him with a wide-eyed expression. He looked pissed. What did I do?

"The blood is hidden, yeah?" He asked in cold tones. I nodded. "Good. I think I know of a place to build the funeral pier. It's to the north of Paris, outside Compíègne. We'll move out once it's dark. The only issue is how to transport the body."

"That's covered." I told him. He nodded.

"Good. You know what? I'm not hungry." He walked out again. I filled a bowl with soup and started eating. What was up with the moody vampire?

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**_Author After Notes:_** Well that was interesting. If I do say so myself. I'm actually proud of this chapter. And it ended exactly where I needed it to end without realizing that I got there. Weird, huh?

As for the song that Spike was singing (James Marsters has a preetty voice when he's singing) here it is in full.

_Early one morning, just as the sun was rising_

_I heard a maid sing in the valley below_

_"Oh don't deceive me, Oh never leave me,_

_How could you use, a poor maiden so?"_

_Remember the vows that you made to me truly_

_Remember how tenderly you nestled close to me_

_Gay is the garland, fresh are the roses_

_I've culled from the garden to bind over thee._

_Here I now wander alone as I wonder_

_Why did you leave me to sigh and complain_

_I ask of the roses, why should I be forsaken,_

_Why must I here in sorrow remain?_

_Through yonder grove, by the spring that is running_

_There you and I have so merrily played,_

_Kissing and courting and gently sporting_

_Oh, my innocent heart you've betrayed_

_How could you slight so a pretty girl who loves you_

_A pretty girl who loves you so dearly and warm?_

_Though love's folly is surely but a fancy,_

_Still it should prove to me sweeter than your scorn._

_Soon you will meet with another pretty maiden_

_Some pretty maiden, you'll court her for a while;_

_Thus ever ranging, turning and changing_

_Always seeking for a girl that is new._

_Thus sang the maiden, her sorrows bewailing_

_Thus sang the poor maid in the valley below_

_"Oh don't deceive me, Oh never leave me,_

_How could you use, a poor maiden so?"_

Some of you might recognize it as Spike's trigger song that his mum used to sing to him. It is a English folk song. There are other versions I just like this one best.

As for the conversation in French (sorry if the grammar is off by the way)

Spike-That is kind of you. Thank you.

Beledia-You speak French?

Spike-Not very well.

Beledia-Nonsense. It is very good.

Spike-Thank you. I haven't been in practice for a while. My mother taught it to me when I was very young.

Spike-Let's speak English. Xander looks a little lost.

Beledia-He does, indeed. You care for him greatly?

Spike- It's complicated.

Beledia- When isn't it?

THAT IS ALL.

Still totally in love with reviewers at a friendly distance.

Tropic


	12. Breakdowns in Closets

_**Meetings in Sewers**_

**_By: _Tropicwhale**

_**Disclaimer:**_ They are not mine. If they were, things wouldn't be the way they were in the final seasons. Joss Whedon owns all but the plot and needs to start looking after his property properly because they keep getting hijacked by strange fanpeople wearing "I LOVE SLASH" t-shirts which is just odd.

_**Warning:**_ SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! Bad Language! French! Turn back now if this squicks you.

_**This chapter is dedicated to:**_ a new reviewer in the house (if there was a house), Chezzeh, who apparently loves this story. A lot. Thank you so much, your reviews made me giddy! And to Goodfairy who also reviewed and continues to be a source of inspiration and drive. This chapter answers why Spike is being an idiot.

_**Feedback:**_ I can has feedback? (LOLcats rocks my socks)

_**Author Notes:**_ Meep! Meep! Now thanks to Chezzeh and Goodfairy I have 12 reviews for 12 chapters, I'm finally even! Yah! Meep! Meep!

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**Chapter Eleven:**  
_Breakdowns in Closets_

Beledia LeBrun is one of my favorite people in the entire world. She's saucy, and sweet, and generously proportioned if you know what I mean. She's like a French Joyce Summers actually. I liked Joyce. Still can't figure out how a woman like that ended up with a daughter like Buffy. I mean sure there were certain similarities but on the whole the pair of them were as different as day and night. She had to have gotten it (whatever _it_ was that made Buffy somewhat dense at times) from her father's side. Never met her father, so it's safe to assume that she got from him. But enough about genetics, lets focus on the here and now shall we? I had followed Ms. Beledia out into the living room where she distributed the soup. The three girls thanked her with tear-stained faces and went back to their vigil of Emma. She turned back to me and pulled me aside. "So why hasn't anyone called the police?"

"They have enemies in the government who would love to get their hands on one of these girls. They're special." I told her. Beledia shook her head. Well its true!

"See the scary thing is, my friend, is that I believe you. Emma's corpse isn't safe is it? How could anyone want to desecrate the dead like that? She was barely sixteen!"

"I know." I smiled in almost an apologetic way. That always got me brownie points. "Believe me I know." She smiled back at me sadly.

"So what are they going to do?"

"Hold a funeral service outside city limits. They're going to burn the body." She looked slightly appalled at that. "It's the only way to make sure that Emma's body is respected."

"What about her parents?"

"We don't know where they are or who they are. A lot of these girls' families just drop them off and never look back. They can't deal with their daughters' abilities." Oh don't look at me like that! I'm not lying or pulling it out of my ass. It's true as far as I know. People are idiots when it comes to things they don't understand. And hello? I've been kidnapped by Nazis and Initiative creeps, I'm practically an expert on government experimentation. But that's not the point. The point is that I don't have a point and I'm not lying to Beledia. So there.

"So if they ever got their hands on Kenya. . ." Oh, didn't think about that. Forgot that the woman had a daughter that's a slayer.

"Don't worry. She's low profile enough that she probably won't be in any danger." Beledia gave me a look that told me, in no uncertain terms, that she didn't believe me but was grateful for the lie. Her face suddenly darkened with confusion as her eyes looked over pass my shoulder. "Wot?"

"Where is Xander going?" I half-turn and there is Harris slinking back to his bedroom. I turn back to the woman.

"Don't know, don't really care." I tell her. She cocked an eyebrow at me. "Wot?"

"What did he do?" How did she-?

"How do you fig-?"

"Because, my dear boy, I've known Xander for about ten months now. Kenya spend a good amount of time on the phone with me saying how much he angered her the first few months. He is a good man but he seems to work on instinct most of the time and tends not to think things through. It is an amusing and infuriating combination." I chuckled at that. "I assume that he did something wrong. Perhaps something to do with Emma's death."

"Something like that."

"She was special to him. They all are. Even I can tell that. It's like he looks at them as his own daughters. In Kenya's case, I am glad. George was gunned down when she was very little. She has no real memories of her father. It makes her very serious. Xander seems to bring out the softer, happier side in her."

"That's good, I suppose." She nods and continues.

"The entire time that Xander has been tutoring Kenya and she's been living here I've never seen him so relaxed. Even with this tragedy he seems more at ease. How long have you known him?"

"Since he was sixteen. He had this friend that I was rivals with but later we became quite close. We fell out of touch rather abruptly about four years ago."

"I see. And did he leave you or did you leave him?" That was an odd way of phrasing that question.

"I guess you could say that I left him. He didn't even know that I was still alive until this past week."

"Well, it is obvious he still cares about you. Perhaps you should give him a second chance." Wait, what was she talking about. I gave her a questioning look. "Oh, don't be coy. I'm French. Depending on the time of day we can go either way." Wait, was she implying that Harris and I were lovers? "I don't have a problem with homosexuals." Oh lord, she was.

"No! We weren't like that, ever!" She blinked in surprise.

"Oh, Kenya said that you two were seeing each other."

"No, no! God no. She and the other girls have this crazy idea that we should be together but no!"

"You are adamantly protesting this rumor."

"So I am."

"Well then, I suppose it is my duty to inform you that Xander has a major crush on you. When you were short with him in the kitchen he had a look on his face similar to that of a kicked puppy."

"He did?"

"He did."

"I knew about the crush but . . . Its complicated. His girlfriend died in a rather brutal car crash on Wednesday and he had to go to the funeral Friday and he just gets home and the accident with Emma happened."

"Poor Xander!"

"Yeah well, to top all that off we run into each other after all these years he had assumed me dead . . ." She looked shocked and confused. "Do you remember that sink hole incident in California four years back?"

"Sunnydale. That is where Xander was from. It was lucky that he survived the catastrophe."

"Yeah well . . . That's where we know each other from. I was caught in the blast that started the chain reaction that destroyed the town. By all rights, I should be dead."

"Thank God you aren't!" God really had nothing to do with it but so not saying that aloud. "So Xander is under a lot of stress and sees you as an old war buddy who he can cleave to in his time of grief."

"Pretty much, yeah."

"So you are worried that he is attracted to you out of a visceral need to connect to someone who understands what he's been through and not out of genuine interest?"

"Yeah. The friend of his that I was rivals with, I kind of went through the same thing with them and really don't want a repeat. There was-I was- it was-" Damn it! Why is it that I start sounding like a complete and utter prat when Buffy (and once upon a time Cecily) is brought up. I'm acting like I did when I was human and that is simply unacceptable. "Bad. The whole thing was just bad. Went rotten really quick. And then it got worse.". Beledia looked at me sadly and then pulled me into a hug. My mother used to give me hugs like that. Hugs where the whole world would drop away and I'd be safe for just a few moments. It was nice.

"Oh, _chéri_, one bad experience should not deter you from seeking out other loves. After all, life is short eat desert first." Life _is_ short, if you're not a vampire. "I say go for it. He may surprise you." Doubt it. "If he does live down to your expectations then you can come and tell me and I'll beat him from here to Nigeria and back again." That got a smile out of me or rather a smirk. I could see it happening. And no doubt the girls would be helping with the task. "And no doubt the girls would help with the task." And that, ladies and gentlemen of the audience, falls under the category of CREEPY, capital letters included. "Now go and see what is wrong with Xander." She ordered then she gave me a kiss on the cheek and smiled at me. "_Pour la bonne chance." _She told me and walked away. Alright, suppose I ought to check on the whelp. I walk over and slip inside the darkened room.

"Harris?" The room was empty. I check the walls for hidden panels. Maybe there was a secret passage like the one upstairs. Nope no hollowness. Except maybe between Xander's ears. There was a window in the room, draped with a heavy quilt from when I decided that Xander's room was way nicer than the couch and didn't want to be crispy fried like one of those onion blossoms. I brace against the wall where I would be well out of the way of any sunlight and gently draw back the blanket to see if he had snuck out by way of the window. Unfortunately, the damn thing was heavy and at the slight twitch I gave it, it fell to the floor bathing most of the room in sunlight. "BUGGER!" I jump backwards away from the deadly light, smoking. I slam into something hollow. I glance behind me but mostly keep the sunlight in my vision. It was the closet.

"Go away Spike." A muffled voice came from behind the closed door. It was Xander. He was hiding in the closet.

"Can't and also, why are you in the closet?"

"Why can't you?" Geez, he sounded it sullen. And he ignored the question about why he's in a bloody closet.

"Because I'm kind of trapped."

"Trapped how?"

"The quilt that was over the window fell down and the room's all sunny again." I roll my eyes to the ceiling. I can't believe what I'm about to say. "Xander can you come out of the closet to rescue me?"

"What do I get in return?" Oh Bloody Hell.

"You're asking for a price? Some bloody white hat you turned out to be. Aren't you suppose to be a knight in shiny armor?"

"Are you saying you're a damsel in distress, Spike?" Damn him for sounding amused.

"Look, at least let me in, yeah? I'm smoking here. Literally."

"I'm thinking of a word. What is it? Oh yeah! No."

"Why not?"

"I'm still angry at you Spike."

"I'm sorry, yeah? Please let me in and/or rescue me?" He has me begging. Me, the ex-Big Bad, begging. Hello humiliation. Haven't seen you since my days in Sunnyhell. "Look, you let me in and I'll tell you why I was short with you earlier." No answer. "If you don't let me in then you'll have to explain to Beledia and the girls what happened to me when I'm dust." Equal parts begging, humiliation, the promise of truth and blackmail. "Well?"

"I'm thinking." Oh for the love of Buffy!

"Look Xander, we don't have all year just let me in, yeah? Please?" There was a beat of nothing as the room warmed up by the heat of the sun. Then the door opened and I slid in. I shut the door behind me and slide down in the blessed dark.

"Ow! That was my foot Spike!"

"Sorry. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. You're just lucky that I'm afraid of Beledia." I can make out his features in the dark. His mouth is set in a stubborn line.

"What?"

"Why were you mean to me in front of Beledia."

"I didn't say anything to you in front of Beledia." I pointed out.

"Exactly." I shift and my leg brushes along his thigh.

"I was-am angry at you."

"Why? What did I do?"

"It's what you keep trying to do." I told him.

"Wait-what?" Dense blighter.

"Do you Scoobies think that I'm a sounding board for everything that goes south in your lives? You're doing the same thing Buffy did. You keep reaching out for me instead of dealing with your own emotional issues and I'm not going through that pain again. I'm not a sexual punching bag." Shit. I didn't mean to say all that. I was going to give noncommittal answers until he gave up and went to fix the quilt. I guess the best laid plans and all that rot. I can smell surprise rolling off the boy.

"Wait. You think that I'm reaching out to you because I'm grieving and in pain and you're convenient?"

"Yeah. Pretty much." So I'm a little defensive. Do you honestly blame me? He shifted and landed on my ankle. "Ow."

"Sorry." He moved some more until he was straddling my hips with his thighs. I want to push him off and run screaming from the closet but you know there's sunlight outside, so yeah, my choices are get mind-fucked by yet another Scooby or be burned alive. Not much of a choice is it? And people wonder why I try to stake myself on occasion. "Spike." Xander's hands were cupping my face and forcing me to look at him. I really don't want this. "Look at me." I glance at him, barely. "That isn't what this is about. I'm attracted to you. I find you sexy, annoying, confident, brave, self-sacrificing, cocky, beautiful and I really want to kiss you. Maybe even more than kiss you but I want you not because you take away the pain . . . heck if I'm right then being with you will actually complicate my life more than if I didn't want you. But I do. I like you Spike. You're a good friend and if sources are correct more than adequate to be classified as more than a friend but we don't know unless we try, right?" At the end of his little rambling speech he kissed me. Well not so much kiss as melt into me starting with his lips and going lower. I keep my hands flat on the floor. I don't want him to say that I took advantage of him later. It was all on him. His hands swept down my cheeks to my neck and then my shoulders while his tongue licked at my lips to get permission to enter.

My instincts scream at me to run, to get away, that this can't mean anything of great importance to the boy, after all he hates vampires, hates me. He gives up on my lips and started nipping at my jaw line and then my throat, along my pulse point. God above that felt good! His hands slid down my arms and grabbed both my hands, interlocking them. He kissed back up my throat to my mouth and this time I kissed back. He hummed happily and smiled into my mouth.

This felt different than it did with Buffy. Besides the obvious differences it felt gentler, safer. Xander seemed intent on making sure I was enjoying the experience as well. It was like the early years with Dru. As a fledge (and I kill anyone who lets this leak out) I wasn't too sure of my powers, I felt stronger but for the first few years I was still, for all intents and purposes, William, Alexander's weaker twin brother. Drusilla knew this and she protected me from Angelus (more or less) and was sweet to me in bed, instructing me through the basics of sex. It was nice to have someone care for me, to see me as something other than beneath them. Xander was doing that now. I joined in the fun a little more. I disengaged our hands and ran mine up his chest to hook behind his head and took control of the kiss. He seemed perfectly content with that and dropped his hands to my chest and stomach. My hands drop to his shoulders and slid lower, intent on taking off his shirt. When my hands reach the hem of his shirt to pull it off of him he immediately pulls back and grabs them.

"Stop Spike." I pull back to look at him, my body screaming at me to reengage the fun.

"Wot?"

"I don't want my first time with you to be in a closet the day of one of my slayers' funeral. And I'm so turning into a girl by saying this but I want our first time to be special."

"You had no problem trying to jump me when Renee died." I need to point that out.

"Yeah but there was a bottle of whiskey involved and I wasn't in my right head, pun not intended." He laughed a little at his own joke. "I wanted you but you were right I wasn't thinking too clearly and so other stuff that has to do with psychology 101 which I didn't take because, hey! no college for the Xan-man and everything." I kissed him to get him to shut up.

"You're babbling again. Get to the point."

"Sorry."

"S'alright."

"My point is that I want you and if I waited for a time in my life where there wasn't grief and pain to tell you then I'd never _get_ to tell you. You told me to tell you that I wanted you when I was in my right mind, or something like that, so I'm telling you now. I want you Spike." I brush his hair out of his eyes and kiss him gently on the lips. When we break apart my hand stays cupping his cheek. He wants me. Alright, I can accept that. I want him too. He's attractive and sincere and has obviously grown a lot since I last saw him in Sunnydale. We could make this work. Doesn't mean I'll make it easy on him.

"Alright, I can accept that but there is going to be a few ground rules."

"I agree." Both my hands drop to his hips.

"I get to feed from you."

"No way in hell. I'll get you a supply of human blood though."

"Fair enough."

"We can't get lovey-dovey around the girls." I snort. "It'll distract them." I pout. I live for public displays of affection. "I mean it Spike." I pout a little more and run my hands down his thighs a little. "Fine we can snuggle but nothing major." I frown at that.

"Define 'major'."

"Like making-out, dry humping, uh, standing too close too often." That makes sense.

"Alright, I can live with that."

"You're not alive." He shot back. I laugh.

"We share the bed. That couch is murder."

"Okay but no sex for awhile. Until we can get comfortable with each other in this sense." No sex? Never had a relationship without sex. That won't work. "I mean it, Spike."

"Can't we at least play with each other's private bits? Shower together? A bit of lite bondage?" I waggle my eyebrows at him in suggestion. I get hit for my troubles.

"No." Ah well, was worth the try.

"Fine, but you need to invest in heavier curtains." I shot back.

"You have to pick them out with me." Gah! Dammit. Fine.

"Fine." I'm getting a little horny sitting under him like this and like the fact that he's being a little dominate. I'm naturally submissive (if you hadn't noticed) and like it if my lovers take control most of the time and in return I take care of them. I wriggle around a bit.

"Stop that Spike." I run my hands up and down his thighs a little more. He slams his hands on the wall on either side of my head, arousal pouring off him. Oh, I found a weakness. "I get a least one kiss a day." That is no problem. I'm slightly impressed that he's coherent when I'm playing with his body. I drag my fingers to backs of his knees.

"You need to romance me." There, I said it, and now offically I've become a poof like my sire before me. Double fuck in a thorny rose bush.

"Romance you? Like take you out on dates and stuff?"

"Not quite that but pretty much. I don't date." He looked confused. "Victorian, mate. Dates back in my day were what you call group dates today. I'm talking flowers and shit like that." He smiled at me. "Wot?"

"Why Spike! You romantic you!" He said a southern belle voice. He sounded remarkably like Fred. How creepy is that?

"Shut it."

"I bet anything you're a secret cuddler too." I shifted uncomfortably. "You are! Oh my god, Spike the ex-Big Bad, a _cuddler_."

"Shut it." I kiss him quickly to shut him up. "New rule, you're not allow to tell that to anyone." I'm neither confirming or denying it. He kissed me, smiling, laughing.

"Don't worry, sweetie. I won't tell a soul about your secretive cuddling." We made eye contact in the dark. "No nicknames like sweetie, honey, or baby." He said.

"Or Blondie Bear." I added. He nodded. "Now go fix the quilt so I can come out of the closet." He laughed and kissed me. I kissed back and he stood and went out of the closet.

"Hey it's dark out." he called out. I stood and came out as well. The sun had indeed set.

"Alright. I suppose it's time we went and burned Emma's body." I said. He nodded. And we went to mourn Emma.

* * *

**_Author After Notes_**: I kinda stole the idea of hiding in a closet from an Angel/Spike story on Adult fan fiction. net (whose name escapes me) except it was Spike hiding in the actual closet because, of course, he's Spike and a bit mental and Angel was hiding in the figurative closet. But I love the idea! The guy who has accepted his sexuality hiding in an actual closet until the actual closet case accepts his sexuality. It's like a homosexual sit-in. It's brilliant! I love it! I really do! It's hilarious. So I stole it. The rest of the story is mine though. The Shournlach, the mini-slayers, Beledia, the Grimmoire of Morgan Le Fay; those are mine.

Another long chapter, _eassh_!

French dialogue

_Chéri-_ sweetheart

_pour la bonne chance_- for good luck

Wishing more people reviewed, and loving those that do at a friendly, respectful distance . . .

-Tropic


	13. Dances with Undead

**Meetings in Sewers**

_**By: **_**Tropicwhale**

_**Disclaimer:**_ They are not mine. If they were, things wouldn't be the way they were in the final seasons. Joss Whedon owns but for the plot and a few miscellaneous things and he ought to start looking after his property properly because they keep getting hijacked by strange fanpeople wearing "I LOVE SLASH" t-shirts which is just odd.

_**Warning:**_ Bad Language! SLASH! Boys are kissing boys! turn back- oh forget it.

_**This chapter is dedicated to:**_ Chezzeh, who reviewed and thus is put on to display as an ideal reader to those of you out there that don't review along with an glare so evil that it would curdle milk. And Goodfairy who, as always, makes me laugh with her/his/their/its' commentary.

_**Feedback:**_ I can has feedback?

_**Author Notes: **_Hmm what to say? I wrote an epilogue already. It brought tears to my eyes with writing it so you lot ought to like it. I've been using the word 'ought' too often. And this chapter was a bitch to write so you have no choice but to like it and if you don't review and tell me what went wrong so I can fix it. Also I have found that this story is getting harder and harder for me to keep track of. I find myself rereading the other chapters to keep the story clear and concise. It's quite the bitch actually. And they don't actually dance, unless you count . . .nevermind, just read the story.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:**  
_Dances With Undead_

It had been almost a month since the Hellish Week (as I now call it) and life had settle down. Sort of. It took approximately three days for the girls to figure out that Spike and I were dating and less then a day after that for me to receive a call from Beledia warning me 'not to hurt him, Xander'. Spike assured me he got the same wrap from the girls with threats of holy water involved. I decided that a call from Beledia was, in fact, getting off easy. A week and a half after that I started thinking. Yes, I think. I always got up earlier then Spike. I guess being a creature of the night leads to you not being a morning person. So I took advantage of his sleeping in by borrowing Kenya's computer and looking up the meanings of flowers on the web. I started leaving small bouquets next to him on the pillow to wake up to. The first day I did it I left grass, honesty, closed gentian, ivy, milk vetch, and a single yellow tulip. I stood just inside the door until he woke up. He caught sight of the flowers and, after looking at them carefully, laughed in self-deprecation. He sat up and picked up the bouquet and smelt them. Then he made eye contact with me. "There's blood in the kitchen." I told him and then walked out.

The next day I left him red tulips, a peach rose, ferns, and a golden ranunculus, which kinda looks like a rose but isn't. He furrowed his brow at the gift, got up, put his pants on, and shot me a look on the way out of the room that made my knees go weak and heat to pool in my groin.

On the third day I laid sweet jasmine, sweet william, a burgundy rose, and winter daphne next to his head but before I could move away he grabbed my hand and pulled me back onto the bed. He scooped up the flowers in his other hand and stared down at them without letting me go. Then he smiled a rare real smile and looked up at me. He kissed my lips and said "You know you don't have to leave me flowers every day."

"Wanted to."

"Yeah well, there are better things to lay on my pillow, yeah?" I give him a lopsided grin.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Yeah." He confirms, smiling, and kisses me. yay. I'm vaguely aware of him shifting to put the flowers on the bedside table so they won't be smushed and then I'm being pushed down to the mattress and Spike is straddling my hips and there is serious making out going on. I arch up into his body as he pushes down and our tongues are sliding along each other at a medium pace and my one hand is in his hand and the other hand is sliding up his side to his shoulder as his free hand is sliding down to my waist. My heart's pounding and I want to wrap myself around him in every way. I kiss him more aggressively, sucking on his tongue, trying to drink him down from his mouth and then there is a knock on the door. He groans and slides down to lay at my side. Why is there always a knock on the door just when things are getting good!Someone just hates me. I sit up and disengage myself from the vampire.

"Yeah?" And, boy, my voice sounds breathy. Like I had been running for miles.

"Breakfast is ready, Xander and Spike." Alex's voice said.

"'Kay. Out in a minute." I look down at Spike. He has the nerve to look happy in a really dirty way, like he planned on one of my slayer interrupting us. Come to think of it, he probably was banking on it, knowing him.

"Shut up Spike." He laughed and there was this dirty quality to it that made me roll on top of him and grind into him. That shut him up immediately and he gave out a half-moan. When he was distracted I pinned his hands to the mattress and grinded down into him again. He groaned, arching up into me, distinctly hard. "Breakfast." I whispered and he gave me this confused little frown. Certain that I got the last word in I smirk down at him and grab the flowers to add to the vase in the kitchen with the other flowers. I leave the room keeping half an ear open and hold up a finger to Alex as she starts to greet me good morning. I am rewarded when I hear a distinctive voice growl.

"BUGGER!" and then a thump indicating Spike fell out of bed. I chuckle at his expense and turn to my charge.

"Good Morning Alex." She gave me a look of 'You are a strange man with strange tastes' which made me laugh more earning me a 'Are you crazy?' look. Both of which I most definitely have earned over the years. I pat her on the head and all but skip into the kitchen. I add the flowers to the vase that Beledia had bought for us yesterday after visiting the first day I started giving Spike flowers. She had seen that we were keeping the bouquet in a drinking glass. She had tutted at it and the next day came by with hand blown green glass vase that was absolutely beautiful but understated. And wow, I guess with that thought I join the ranks of card-carrying gays, don't I? Ah well it's well worth it. I load up a plate with eggs, sausage, and a toasted croissant and move to accept a glass of orange juice from Patricia. I have to fight down the urge to giggle for some reason, I'm just that happy. I must not have done it successfully because the brunette gives me a weird look. I smile and walk away to sit at the couch.

Now there was a sobering thought, Patricia. She had grown almost more introverted in the week after Emma's death, if that was possible. She was always a little taciturn. But now there was always a tint of sadness around everything she did and that scared me. Patricia held the most potential as a slayer but the way she was acting . . .it was like there was going to be a boiling point over what happened in the catacombs that night. And I didn't know if she would just start to veg on me, becoming more and more dead inside until there was nothing left and she would be permanently comatose; or if she would snap and rage and pull a Faith on us; or be so unable to deal that it drives her to the ultimate extreme, suicide. And that scared me. I already lost one girl to a freak accident, but to lose another from the same event just delayed . . . It would mean that tragedy, that the demon would have won. It would defeat us in the end. I wish I could think of something to snap her out of it.

I start to eat breakfast, thinking on this latest problem, as Spike comes out of our room wearing just a pair of slim sweats that hang off his body in a way that should be considered illegal as his hair defied gravity and logic and stood up in twisted, tight curls that just screamed sex. I shift in my seat watching him, suddenly overheated. How did I not see how gorgeous he was back in Sunnydale? Oh wait, come to think of it, I did notice but didn't do anything about it. Well, no one ever accused me of being quick on the pick up. Unaware of my lusty thoughts toward him (and how much hotter is that? That he doesn't even know that he's turning me on?) Spike shuffled into the kitchen. A moment later he reappeared with a plate of food in one hand and a cup of blood in the other and sat next to me on the couch.

"Morning." He said lazily, as if we hadn't been making out like teenagers not ten minutes before (by the way, how does he do that?), two seconds before vamping out and drinking the blood down. I snap myself out of staring at his Adam's apple as he gulps down the blood. Because things like that shouldn't be sexy, they should be gross.

"Morning" I answer and dig into my meal. He breathes in. Uh-oh, bad sign. Spike _never _breathes unless there is something difficult that he needs to say. I brace myself.

"We need to do something about Patricia or she's going to self-destruct." Oh. I knew that.

"Yeah. But I don't have a clue on how to deal with this. Last time I tried was Faith and we all know how well that turned out."

"She came around in the end."

"Not because of me, though. Angel helped her." He sucked in his cheeks thoughtfully.

"Yeah. He's good at helping people find their way again. Just wish he could take his own advice sometimes." Was that wistfulness I hear in his voice?

"How'd you mean?"

"He's Angel and he's a ponce." I don't believe him.

"That doesn't sound like that's what you meant." He smiles, looking down at the floor.

"No. I guess it doesn't." He cocked his lips in thought and then bit down on the lower one. "Doesn't matter anyway." He looked into my eyes. "We're not having a conversation about the Lame Broody One, we're having a conversation on how to help Patricia." He reminded me.

"They all are taking Emma's death rather-"

"Yeah. I noticed. There ought to be a way to snap them out of it."

"But there isn't anything. Except, maybe, time." He snorted.

"Bugger that." I laughed at that. "No I mean it. You mortals don't have all the time in the world to suss out what you want, how to heal. And these girls have less time than most to figure that all out. Don't want Patricia to get hung up on this one mistake and forget to live, forget about life and wish for death. Because that's probably what's going to happen. She's going to start wishing for death and taking on suicide missions. But she'll be distracted, thinking about Emma's death and her role in it, and then she'll die. The rest of us will be worst for it."

"Yeah but its not like we can just turn to her and say 'Alright, get over how you killed a person who was your friend.' It doesn't work like that, Spike." He looked me in my eye, leaned over and kissed me. "What was that for?" He quirked a smile at me.

"You've grown up so much since I last saw you. I'm glad." I had to grin back at him for that.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." he confirmed. I lean over to kiss him and it was slow and languid. There was a cold hand resting on my face and boy can someone say cold? Yeesh, wish he get some body heat. It was like a piece of marble on my face. Now there's a thought. Spike as a marble statue, a cold beauty where even the physics of his bed-tousled hair made sense because it was a piece of art. He kiss me again. "You got this dopey grin on your face. What are you thinking about?" He asks all mock-serious.

"Thinking about you as a piece of artwork." Both of his eyebrows went up at that.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. You're really beautiful. Kind of like a marble statue. It's like you're not real and someone just carved you. Like one of the statues at the city museum." He rolls his eyes.

"You, Harris, are the only entity I know who can ruin a poetic thought like that with mistaking the Louvre as a _city museum_." He brushed my hair back. That was starting to become a habit of his, playing with my hair. He's always doing it whenever he can. He leaned in and kissed my neck. "I'll have to take you there some time. Prove that it isn't a city museum to you." Wow, he's offering to take me out on a date.

"I've already been. Beledia-we took the girls on a field trip."

"Ah." I can feel his mouth move against my neck as he talks.

"In fact, there was this one sculpture that reminded me of you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Remember what it was called?"

"Yeah, the "_Dying Gladiator_". It reminded me of the story Buffy told me of your death. That you took death as a true Champion in the end, with dignity. Uh, I think the artist's name was something Pierre. Jules, Julius-"

"Julien Pierre"

"Yeah that's it. Have you heard of it?"

"Seen it."

"Oh."

"It was nice. I wasn't too interested in the arts when I saw it, Xander."

"Oh . . .oh!" I backpedaled. "I thought it was beautiful. It looked like he was a living being casted in marble. I wanted to reach out and touch him, make sure he wasn't real."

"Dru was convinced that he was. She started talking to him, about how dying wasn't so bad and if he'd just ask she'd help him live forever. Had to remind her that he was marble."

"What did she do then?" He laughed.

"She pouted, whimpered a little child like if I changed what I said then he would be real. I had to apologize to the bloody statue for being callous." I laughed at his tone, he sounded so annoyed that he had to admit that. "Though I guess, if he was real, technically he _is_ living forever. In a way."

"I guess." He kisses my neck again. "Spike, you're beginning to have a neck fetish." He laughed against my skin.

"Vampire." I laugh too. I guess he already had a neck fetish. "Though there are more interesting places to feed from."

"Like the wrist." A statement.

"Not so much, there are all those bones and nerves you need to aim around. You need to be very precise or very cruel to eat from a wrist. I was talking about the femoral artery."

"Femoral artery?" I was trying to remember where that was. It sounded like something that was mentioned in a lecture from Willow or Giles but I couldn't place it.

"That's what I said." He pulled back and looked at my face. "Here. But its kinda hard. To feed from that is." He place his hand on the inside of my thigh incredibly close to my groin.

"Whoa!" I half-jumped out of my seat and Spike, damn him to three separate and distinct hells simultaneously, smirked smugly at me. "Spike." I warned, or rather tried to. My voice had raised three octaves and was a _little_ breathy.

"Yeah?" He was grinning, the psycho, and his hand hadn't moved.

"The girls-"

"Are in the kitchen, the boys are in the living room." And, God, _why_ did that have to sound like it was opening line to a really dirty limerick? He laughed that dirty giggle of his and stroked the inside of my thigh. I was beginning to be uncomfortably hard. Distantly, I knew that this was payback for this morning but still! Spike played dirty. "Kiss me?" He asked, his eyes trained on my lips. Okay. Don't need to ask me twice. I kissed him. Well not so much kiss as glomp him into the couch, pinning him down and devouring his mouth. But 'I kissed him' makes me sound less horny. He laughed against my lips and kissed back.

"aWWwww, They're kISsing!" I heard a group sing-song at us. I break the kiss and look up to see my charges standing in the room grinning at us. Well, except for Patricia, she's just smiling a little. I sit up and shoot across to the armchair to attempt to get some distance between me and my boyfriend. Wow, Spike's my boyfriend, whodathunkit? Spike, on the other hand, just laid sprawled across the couch half-undressed and looking for all the world like the cat who got the catnip, the canary, _AND_ the cream all at once. God, I want to jump him right now . . .and maybe punch him out as well.

"Like what you see, girls?" He ran his hand down his chest and stomach and glanced in my direction as if to check to see if I was watching. Believe me, I was. The slayers giggled and Spike's smirk got wider, if that was possible. "I 'ave an idea." he then stated. It was funny how his Cockney accent thickened and thinned at his will. "I say we all go clubbin' tonight, yeah? Break t'e monotony of trainin' and all t'at." He sniffed and then grinned at Patricia who broke out into a proper grin. He slid from the couch and sauntered over to her. Honestly, did that man-I mean vampire-have _any_ bones in his body? At all? "Wot you say, luv?" he asked, taking up her hand and twirling her "'ave go at dancin' wit' me?" He held her close and swayed them both. He lowered his head and looked into her eyes. "See what moves I really got?" He dropped the thickened accent. She nodded. Of course she nodded. He was a master at manipulating young girls among other things. He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Brill, luv. Now off you go to train." He spun her out and toward the practice room. "That goes for you two as well." He ordered shooing Kenya and Alex off to the practice room as well. He was turning up the charm, he has to be up to something. "I got to debauch your Watcher in the shower." I told you so. Wait, WHAT?

"SPIKE!" I all but shrieked.

"See? He's too wound up." He grinned at the girls.

"Wonder whose fault that is." Kenya deadpanned as she and Alex followed Patricia into the practice room. He smirked at me. Incorrigible vampire.

"You're incorrigible."

"You wouldn't have me any other way. Besides, I got her to smile and have a plan to get her back to normal." I can practically hear the 'So there' that laces his spoken words.

"Spike," I start "your plans always fail."

"Do not. Only if you and Red were involved . . . And maybe Buffy or Angel too, depending . . .possibly the cheerleader and the Watcher as well; if you want to get technical." He pointed at me to make his point. "Anyways, this plan's foolproof. There is now way for you to botch it up." Cool. Wait, did he just imply that I was a fool?

"I'm not the fool in this relationship, Spike." He jutted out his bottom lip, looking thoughtful. "You are."

"Yeah. I can see that." he said "I'm a right fool for love. Wanna go make out in the shower now?" One track mind he has. Thank you, Master Yoda brain, just what I was thinking.

"You've a one track mind, my friend."

"Yeah, but it's a fun track." I sigh in exasperation as he pulls me from the chair and into the bathroom.

Later, after escaping Spike's valiant attempt at trying to get into my pants . . .No, there wasn't any sex. I'm pretty sure that Spike is attempting to get me to break that rule with all the charisma and sex appeal that he possesses. I can honestly say that my defenses wouldn't hold up under the onslaught but for one fact. I'm not ready for any sex with Spike yet. I'm not really sure how that is suppose to work. I mean I know the logistics of it, Anya and I had tried anal sex before its just . . .two guys, y'know? It's weird and uncharted territory for me. Like deep in Klingon space or along the outer rim of the Empire. It's not exactly safe and-and-and well-lit. Yes, I trust Spike but there is a difference between trust and blind faith. Anyway, I started helping train the girls, focusing on their concentration and, well, focus. We were doing quite well until Spike walked in wearing nothing but a towel. Then, all three girls lost their concentration simultaneously. "Spike" I growl. He didn't even react to my anger.

"So," he started, clapping his hands together "anyone see my clothes?" I look at him in exasperation.

"Spike, quit fooling around and go get dressed." I order him. He raised his eyebrows at me.

"Love to. But, don't you think that if I could, I would Harris?" Oh, look my last name! He only uses it when he's being serious. "I don't want to interrupt training with my nudity, as fantastic as it is for aesthetics, but look it wreaked their concentration and everything. By the way, what were you working on with them?"

"Focus and concentration." I deadpan. Kenya and Alex giggled at Spike's expression. His face had equal qualities of 'are you kidding me?' and humor.

"Really?" he asked and I nodded. The humor on his face won out and his face broke out into a wide grin. He turned to the girls and schooled his features into mock-seriousness. "Alright, girls, now listen up. If a gorgeous, beautiful specimen of manliness, such as myself, walks into the area of your battle wearing nothing but a towel you have my permission to ignore the great big bad you're fighting and glomp him for all he's worth. Now, who stole my clothes?" Kenya and Alex laughed while I rolled my eyes. Patricia raised her hand. We gapped at her. Spike raised his eyebrow.

"You wear too much black." she told him. Spike burst out into an open grin.

"You offering to take me shopping, Bubbles?" I watched Patricia and Spike from my vantage point in the room. Patricia looked surprised when her joke was turned around on her. It didn't take forever for the other two girls to catch up on Spike's offer. I couldn't say the same.

"A shopping trip!" Alex said "Great idea, Patricia!"

"Wha-?" Patricia was having trouble keeping up with the conversation. Right there with you, honey.

"But it is day out. Spike will have trouble moving around." Kenya said.

"That's okay, we can go shopping for him and anything he doesn't like we can return, no biggie." Alex said. Spike grinned at me.

"Oh, that is right! I'll call _mama _so she can take us. She knows Paris so well." Kenya grinned. Uh oh, I think I need to step in.

"Girls-" I started

"Xan, shut-up." Spike told me. "They need a break and what girl wouldn't turn down shopping?"

"Please Xander?" Alex asked.

"Pretty please?" Kenya added. Spike raised his eyebrow at me and nodded to Patricia. Oh I get it! This was about breaking Patricia out of her shell. I can get behind that.

"It's up to Patricia." I said and glanced at Spike. He smirked his approval. The girls, however, turned and started begging Patricia.

"Please Patricia?" Kenya begged

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Alex added.

"_Mama _can take us to a _café _so we can be all sophisticated and women of the world." Kenya wheedled.

"I thought we already were?" Alex asked her.

"Yes, but we can actually show it off in public." Kenya reasoned. "Please Patricia?" Patricia sighed, then nodded. The two other girls cheered and dragged their squadmate out of the practice room to go shopping.

"Remember to be back before dark so we can go to a club!" Spike called after them and then turned his attention back to me. We grinned at each other then the vampire slinked his way over to me. "So where were we this morning before the mini-slayers interrupted?" he asked, his eyebrows raised. I gather him up in my arms and move in to kiss him. He gave a dirty little chuckle moments before our lips touch. I run my hands up and down his bare back half-attempting to get heat into the skin that I know doesn't heat up. His arms curl around my neck and he presses me back into the padded wall. I can feel his erection through the not-enough towel and a thrill races up my spine to know that I do this to him. Me, the Xan-man, Zeppo extraordinaire turns on William the Bloody, Spike, the ex-Big Bad. God, that's enough to make me hard. We're grinding together and making out when we hear the front door close in the distance. I rock hard against Spike and my hand slides down to grab his ass. He jerks back suddenly. I freeze. What did I do wrong?

"What?" He looks surprised.

"Patricia never told me where she hid my clothes." he said and I giggled. Little Patricia just pranked Spike majorly!

Later that night, the girls had come back and we all went out clubbing, Beledia as well. We found a club that catered to underage teens so that the girls could get in. It was kind of like the Bronze only everything was in French. The girls immediately started dancing while Spike, Beledia, and I started up a game of pool, Spike versus the humans. Then I remembered something important. Beledia was taking her shot when I nudged Spike to get his attention. "Did you sent the book to Angel?" I whispered in his ear. Spike blinked at me.

"No, actually I forgot about it completely. What with Emma dieing, and you and I hooking up. It just slipped my mind."

"Oh, we might want to take care of that tomorrow." I told him. He nodded.

"Look at you two _perruches inséparables_. Whispering sweet nothings to each other?" I blush while Spike just laughs.

"Something like that." he told her.

"You are not focused on work, are you? This is a night off for everyone, including you two." I exchanged a look with the vampire and we turned back to Beledia.

"No" we say simultaneously and glance back at each other. Beledia raised her eyebrow.

"Alright you two, spill." the woman leaned against her pool stick and crossed one leg behind the other. Boy, was she beautiful. She was wearing a pleated knee-length blue skirt and a sleeveless matching blouse and had her hair done like a old-fashion movie star. I grinned goofily at her. Spike elbowed me.

"Nothing. It's nothing." I squeaked out. Beledia had the ability to make me feel like I was a thirteen-year old boy sometimes. Spike elbowed me even harder. "Ow! Sorry." Beledia laughed.

"Just tell her, Xan." I looked at Spike in surprise. "The thing is, Beledia, I work for this firm back in California and they send me around the world looking for artifacts. This time they sent me to Paris in search of a book, a bound manuscript."

"A book?" she asked.

"It is said to be written by Morgan Le Fay, herself. Of course, that is just conjecture. The important thing is that my boss wants that book for a client and I got my hands on it."

"You _have_ it?" she asked. "Then why don't you send it along?"

"Well, with everything that's happened, what with meeting up with Xan, Emma dieing, and Xan and I hooking up, I forgot to send it to L.A., Xander was just reminding me to."

"Oh, is that all?" Beledia asked her hand on her hip. She looked mildly disappointed.

"Wot?"

"I was kind of hoping you were whispering sweet nothings." she admitted. Spike smirked and then turned to me.

"I want you to fuck me senseless on that pool table, Xander." he whispered, his mouth on the shell of my ear. I jumped away from him.

"Holy- DON'T DO THAT!" I hopped over behind a laughing Beledia. Spike smirked.

"Sweet nothings." he told me smugly.

"Okay you know what? You need lessons on the difference between sweet talk and dirty talk, mister." I shook my finger at him. He just cocked his eyebrow, looked at that finger, and _smirked_. I snapped my finger back. Whoa, groiny thoughts. Beledia laughed harder. Spike moved to the pool table, bent over, and took his shot without once taking his eyes off me. Whoa, really,_ really_ groiny thoughts.

"Your" Beledia giggled "face is" she sucked in a breath of air "_betterave rouge_." she giggled "_Inestimable_." She fell to the floor giggling. We were starting to attract attention. The girls came over.

"What is wrong with _Mama_?" Kenya stared down at her mother in confusion.

"Dunno. Must have been the Joker's laughing gas." Spike told her. I chuckled as I took my shot and the girls looked confused. Beledia and I were losing the game by the look of it. Beledia cracked up harder. She was now in hysterics. "Watch this." the vampire said. He waited until there was a lull in the laughter. "Hey, Beledia, Wednesday." She cracked up more. "Anything is funny to her at this point. Beledia, Torture. " She snorted, laughed, and snorted again. Spike bounced on the balls of his feet, grinning. He was having a good ole time. "Dead puppies!" He said with an air of a great (and happy) discovery. She cracked up again and her back arched, tears rolling down her face. We were starting to attract a crowd.

A bouncer started making his way over to us. Kenya turned to him and started speaking rapidly in French at him, explaining her mother. He crossed his arms and glared down at her, his biceps dangerously stretching the arms of his tee-shirt. Patricia and Alex moved to flank their teammate. The tension in the room increased. My girls could take the bouncer and his three friends that were starting to flank us. The fact was that I didn't want them to. I made eye contact with Spike. Beledia got herself under control and grabbed me by the elbow.

"I believe it is time for us to leave." She cleared her throat and raised her hand to the bouncer and started through the crowd to the exit. I made eye contact with the girls and Spike and nodded toward the door. As one we headed out, the crowd parting for us. Beledia met us outside and hooked arms with me and Spike. "I am sorry for having us kicked out of the club."

"That's okay, Beledia." I told her.

"Mmm, so when are you two going on a date?" she asked.

"heh-what now?" I took a double take.

"She was wondering when you were going to ask me out on a date, precious." Spike helped out. I wish that he would stop doing that. Helping me out, that is.

"Hey! I thought I was 'Precious'?" Kenya asked. Spike smirked at her.

"Oh you are."

"You two should go out tomorrow." Alex said.

"You can both wear the clothes we bought for you." Patricia added. I looked over at Spike.

"I think we've been set up." I told him

"It's a viable possibility." he returned. I guess we were actually going out on a date.

* * *

**_Author After Notes_**: Xander can be surprisingly romantic, neh? And what is with Beledia? Find out next time on "Meetings in Sewers".

**Meanings of the flowers** (in order of appearance)

_Grass_- Homosexual love/submission

_Honesty_- Sincerity

_Closed Gentian_- sweet be thy dreams

_Ivy_- anxious to please

_Milk Vetch_- your presence softens my pain

_Yellow tulip_- there is sunshine in your smile

_Red tulip_-declaration of love

_Peach rose_- Immortality/modesty

_Fern_- magic/fascination/shelter/confidence

_Ranunculus_- I am dazzled by your charms

_Spanish Jasmine_- sensuality

_Sweet William_- grant me one smile

_Burgundy Rose_- unconscious beauty

_Winter Daphne_- I would not have you otherwise

**French vocab words**

_perruches inséparables_-lovebirds

_betterave rouge_- beet red

_Inestimable_- priceless

THAT IS ALL (for now)

-Spike, wait no, Tropic


	14. Walks with Boyfriends

**Meetings in Sewers**

_**By: **_**Tropicwhale**

_**Disclaimer:**_ They are not mine. If they were, things wouldn't be the way they were in the final seasons. Joss Whedon owns but for the plot and a few miscellaneous things and he ought to start looking after his property properly because they keep getting hijacked by strange fanpeople wearing "I LOVE SLASH" t-shirts which is just odd.

_**Warning:**_ Bad Language! SLASH! Boys are kissing boys! turn back- oh forget it.

_**This chapter is dedicated to:**_ four reviewers that go by the names Goodfairy, Chezzeh, and the newbies of the group Spikeisthebestest and Li'l Albatross. These people are wonderful, fantabulous (which apparently is a word meaning extremely fine), and jiggy (which is also a word meaning cool to the nth power). You should all strive to be like them.

_**Feedback:**_ I can has feedback?

_**Author Notes: **_Please to continue with reviews, one more and I break my record 18 reviews for a fic. I also now have two pages of reviews, that just makes me so happy. Oh, do y'all remember that fic I was telling you all about on Aff? The one that is Angel/Spike and has Spike in a closet that I borrowed? I found it. I would like now to give it a proper nod of recognition. It is "Eudaemonia" by Psychosomatic. If you are interested (and of age, of course) please check it out, it was left unfinished but was quite interesting until the very last. I also would like to take the time and announce that I have over 2100 hits on this story which places it second most visited of all my stories, the lead being over 2300 hits. I am very proud. Now on to the story.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen:  
**_Walks with Boyfriends_

The girls, including Beledia, were very excited with the idea of my going out with Xander. I can honestly say that I was not looking forward to it. I don't do dates. I barely do relationships. About a half-an-hour of 'primping' (Patricia manipulated me like a fine violin) I was led downstairs to go out on my first date with my boyfriend . . . There are just so many things wrong with that sentence. Just before we could get a view of the living room Patricia held up a hand to stop me and checked to see if anyone was already down there. She waved me down. I obliged, with a bemused expression at how this was such a big deal to the women. Beledia was sitting on the loveseat reading a newspaper. "Beledia! Why are you here?"

"To make sure the girls don't have a party when you and Xander are out on the date."

"I'm sure the girls don't need a babysitter."

"Probably. But it also places me into a position to question the pair of you on the date afterward."

"Ah, so its an academic interest?"

"Of course."

"And there are no cameras involved at all?" Beledia smiled sheepishly and held up a digital camera that was hidden in her lap. I knew it.

"Well, maybe one. But you two are so cute together that I couldn't resist."

"So where is the lady of the evening?" I ask, the girls giggled.

"I'm lookin' at her, Spike." Xander said from behind me. I turn slowly.

"Yeah well, you better be lookin' at Kenya or Alex, mate." I finish turning and was struck dumb. Xander was wearing tight black trousers and a blue button-up shirt that matched the blue undershirt I was wearing. I'm feeling manipulated, how about you? His hair was carefully styled, straightened and brushed forward. I reach up and scratch the back of my head, surreptitiously checking my own hair. It was in it's natural curls and Patricia had put light eyeliner along the bottoms of my eyes to highlight them. It must have worked well enough with the black trousers and the true blue undershirt I was wearing under an unbuttoned white dress shirt else Xander wouldn't have looked like he had had a piano dropped on him. Hey, it happened to me and I can tell you that it stuns you but good. I shoved my hands into my pockets. "Wot?" Harris blinked.

"You look good, Spike." I snorted.

"Don't need to sound so surprised." Patricia elbowed me. "Huh, you look good as well."

"Thank you." He looked down at the floor, his hands clasped behind his back. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the four women exchanging looks and grinning.

"So." I say. "Shall we go?" Xander's gaze snapped up to me.

"Do you know where we're going?"

"No."

"Oh." he looked confused. Alex stepped forward.

"Don't worry, we have everything planned." she said. Why doesn't that fill me with comfort? By the look on Xander's face, he's thinking along the same lines. Beledia stood.

"But first things first." she said, holding up the camera and laying down her newspaper. The mini-slayers practically tackled us and pulled us into position; Xander behind me and slightly to the side. They scattered then and Beledia snapped the picture. Xander leaned into me. I looked over at him and he leaned further in to whisper in my ear. Distantly I realized that Beledia snapped another picture.

"Wanna give them a real thrill?" I smirked at him and he grinned at me. He pulled me into him, standing behind me and, wrapping his arms around me, turned me toward the camera. He smiles and places his mouth on my cheek. I smirk and place my hands on his forearms and leaned back into him. The girls 'awed' and Beledia snapped the picture. A car horn blared outside.

"That will be your taxi." I raised my eyebrow at her. "What? Don't you trust me?" she asked and the girls giggled.

"Now I don't."

"We have the whole thing planned." Alex said.

"The date is set up in three checkpoints. At the end of each stop you will receive instructions on how to proceed to the next step." Kenya added. "It should keep the pair of you from being too bored." I glance at Xander, his eyebrows are inching up his forehead as well.

"Okay then!" he said and dragged me out the door. Sure enough there was a taxi waiting for us. We got in. The cab took off. After about fifteen minutes of driving we arrived at a little bistro. Xander let out a low whistle. "Classy." I shrug and lean over to pay our driver.

"_C'est déjà gardé_." he waved off the money. I raised my eyebrow and shoved Xander out of the car.

"What was that about?" he asked.

"He said not to worry about it."

"Why is it, then, that I'm now worried?"

"Because your mini-slayers are involved. Even I'm worried and I came into my own under Angelus himself." He flashed me a scared look that had me laughing and I ushered him into the restaurant. It was uncanny that the staff immediately cued into who we were. I was told, _very_ rapidly in French, that gentlemen matching our descriptions were expected and that everything was taken care of right down to our drink selection. The _matri'd _ushered us upstairs and onto a patio that was surrounded by pots and window boxes filled with flowers of all sorts. Paris was lit up and the Eiffel Tower loamed above it all.

"It's beautiful." Xander said reverently. The _matri'd _smiled and showed us to our seats, right at the wrought-iron railing. He once again assured me, in French, that everything was dealt with and that we should just relax. I translated for Xander as the man hustled away. He looked slightly nervous and was staring at me.

"Wot?" I asked. I started unraveling the silverware and gestured for him to do the same. He followed me, barely. "Xander? Earth to Flash Gordon, come in, Flash." he started. "Harris, are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah, fine. It's just shock. Like it didn't hit me that I was in _Paris _dating _Spike_, the Bleached Menace, until just this second. It's overwhelming, ya'know?"

"Yeah, I understand." I tilted my head and smiled at him. He returned with a watery smile and glanced out over the city.

"It's beautiful." And here is where Angel and I differ drastically. He, being the freakish poncy git that he is, would say something corny like 'So are you' and flash that 'I'm harmless' puppy dog smile that melts knees and any sense of reason. I am not like that.

"It is." I merely agreed. People like agreeability way more than that sloppy romantic drivel that Angel puts out. You have to be seriously mental to find it cute. Xander smiled at me and then focused his attention on the railing box filled with flowers next to us.

"Hey look!" He picked a flower and handed it to me. I raise my eyebrow at the selection, a bachelor's button. I took it making sure my fingers brushed his. The smile that lit up his face was that of a dog who was given a piece of human food. It was . . .disgustingly adorable. But, before I could get in a dig about it, our appetizers and drinks arrived. Lucky Scooby. Stuffed mushrooms with basil and goat cheese with a white wine. Xander eyed the dish with trepidation. I took one of the mushrooms and bit into it. Perfect.

"Try it. You might like it." I offer the one that I had taken a bite out with a cocked eyebrow, daring him to refuse. Xander Harris is nothing if not a man to chicken out on a dare of that caliber. He got a very determined look in his eye and closed his mouth around the morsel _and_ my fingers sucking the food off of them. Well now, that was interesting. My face must have reflected some of that sentiment because I was graced with a not-so-classical-Xander-the-Zeppo-Harris leer. And that, my friends, was hot. Ooo, shivers.

"Mm-nummy." Only a supreme force of will stopped me from leaping over the table and shagging him senseless in public. That might be bad. Besides, I can't afford to be arrested in Paris on public nudity charges again.

"Now sip the wine." I order. He does.

"Wow."

"Now you understand the lure of fine dining." I grabbed another mushroom, there were only four. It seemed to be seasoned with a dash of caraway giving it a tangy taste under the robust flavor of the feta and basil. What? I've been around for over a hundred years. You really do expand your tastes and your palate becomes finer over the course of many years if you allow it to. So there. The wine was fruity, gentle. It probably meant a tropical based fish for the entrée, possible grouper. We polished off the mushrooms fairly quickly in compatible silence. Within a minute that dish had been cleared and salads were served. It was an arugala salad with cucumbers, carrots, blueberries, and pickled beets with a spicy vinaigrette dressing. "You look surprised."

"It's a salad." Stating obvious facts does not explain reactions of surprise no matter what Dru says.

"Yeah, and-?" gesturing for him to continue.

"Are we ever going to get to the entrée?" Must resist urge to beat head on table.

"Xander, let me explain something to you. Okay?"

"Alright."

"A fine meal is like a good story."

"Huh?"

"Would you want to come into a movie right when they're having the shoot out and you have no idea why they're trying to kill each other?"

"Well, no. I'd be lost."

"With a good meal it's the same thing. You don't just jump into a gourmet entrée without first building up to it. Flavors come together, make love, fall apart, reunite with other flavors and then the entrée is the big dance number where it all comes together."

"What's dessert?"

"The curtain closing on a kiss."

"And the coffee?"

"End credits." I said matter-of-factly and bite into my rabbit food. It's quite good. Xander does the same. His eye widens. I raise my eyebrow.

"Okay, not going to complain."

"Good."

"This is amazing."

"I know." He stuck his tongue out at me. "Put it away before I put it to use." He slurped his tongue in and gave me a confused look. "Your tongue, you prat."

"Oh." There was a beat. "OH! Spike!" I put my tongue behind my lower lip and jut it out. "You smug-"

"Language." I tell him "We're in a nice restaurant." He gave me an angry, dirty look that made me chuckle. We finished our salads with him angry at me for being a smart ass and me being smug that I got him. The dishes were whisked away and replaced with a fish course (hah!) while our wine was refilled. It was a grouper (double hah!) medallion with a cracked pepper and cream sauce drizzle. I tasted it and laughed.

"What?" I glance at him.

"The sauce is oyster and black pepper cream sauce." He didn't understand the significance. "It's a well-known aphrodisiac." His eye went wide and then he laughed too.

"You think the girls are trying to tell us something?"

"It's possible. Of course the fact that we are going out in Paris might be a big hint as well."

"Took the words right out of my mouth." The grouper finished and a meat dish was placed in front of us. I cocked my mouth and looked at it curiously. "What?"

"It's unusual."

"What?"

"Having fish and meat in the same meal. It's something that I haven't seen since I was alive."

"Oh."

"Now what?"

"I forgot that . . .uh . . ."

"I'm of the undead? That I had a human life? That I died so many years ago?"

"Yeah, sorta. It's weird to think of you as a human." I shrug and cut a bit of the meat. It was tender, probably lamb or veal. Judging by the wine, lamb. It was sheared and with a mint-mango sauce with delicate spirals of parmesan cheese accenting it. It was amazing. It is at this point that I can admit that whole bit about full course gourmet meals being a story was complete bull that I pulled out of thin air. It was kind of cool to see that the allegory pan out. Xander took a bite out of the meat.

"I want to marry this meal. Can I married this meal?" I ask him sincerely with full on puppy-dog eyes. He laughed. "No, I'm serious. This lamb (at least I think its lamb) is amazing. Brilliant! A true triumph of culinary skill! What the _bloody hell_ are you laughing at?" He had all but cracked up.

"You sound like Giles or Wesley." I stare at him.

"Oh, that's just low." He giggled. Did I mention I'm a sucker for a cute giggle?

"True triumph of culinary skill?"

"Well it is. And you sound like Angel when you said that." I pouted. He pointed his fork at me.

"I'll let that one go because you are upset I said you're like Giles."

"Bugger that. I don't mine Rupert as much as I mind Percy. He snaps at the weirdest things. So what if I walked in on his bubble bath?" Xander snorted. "So I might have told everyone I came around for two days after the fact about it but that was no reason to yell at me. Wyndym-Price needs to get a sense of humor." Xander smirked.

"You know, you could have weaseled out of tonight. Found some excuse to not come. I know you don't date." The small talk portion of the evening was over, apparently. I sighed, glancing down to play with the flower he had picked for me.

"So?"

"Why didn't you?"

"Thought it might be fun." I shrug. "Never did it before. You should always be willing to try something new."

"Look me in the eye and tell that to me, Spike." I look him in the eye.

"You could have weaseled out of it yourself. Why didn't you?"

"Uh-" Got him. Was it just me or did it seem that we're always keeping score? "The girls scare me." That's Harris, alright. Always with a fast joke. "Look do we have to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Examine everything right now?"

"I'm not examining anything." I told him.

"You're being defensive."

"You're the one cracking jokes."

"I-forget it." he took another bite of his dinner. "I'm not going to argue with you."

"Smart decision." I damn near growled. Okay, so he grew up and is now somewhat attractive. Doesn't mean that I don't still find him irritating to the extreme. Sometimes I just what to punch him.

"You know what Spike? Sometimes I just want to punch you."

"I was just thinking that about you."

"I guess that we still have the ability to irritate the hell out of each other."

"Kinda of comforting, if you ask me." He grinned. "Wot?"

"I was just thinking that." I laughed and then I realized something that made me laugh harder. "What?"

"We're thinking on the same wavelength."

"Now that's disturbing." I lean back in my chair.

"Oh, I don't know. I think it's brilliant." He gave me a confused look. "Think of all the trouble we can cause with it." He laughed.

"We can get the girls back for trapping us in this date."

"To say the least." I agreed. Twin evil grins split our faces. The entrée, in the meantime, was whisked away and replaced with dessert. It was a dark chocolate soufflé with fresh strawberries and white chocolate sauce drizzled on top. The wine was replaced with champagne. Xander and I never lost eye contact during the switch. "Do you know what I'm thinking?"

"The destruction of the world, sex, pranks, sex, and possible Manchester United. Oh and sex."

"No, actually."

"Really?"

"Well, except for the sex part but what do you expect? I'm a male." He laughed and took a bit of the soufflé and groaned. The sound shot straight south on my anatomy. I started eating my own dish to cover my reaction. He groaned again. If I wasn't sitting directly across from him I could have sworn that he was getting blown.

"Oh god, this is amazing." What is with this boy and sweets? I glance up. He's wiggling around on his seat, moaning. I can think of at least four different places I'd rather him be wiggling around on.

"Try the champagne." I order, he obeys. He sips delicately and then tilts his head back so the long line of his throat is exposed. I can see his pulse jumping, pounding away until it echoes in my ears. He brings his head back down at takes another bite, moaning. I shift in my seat and attempt to focus on my dish while trying to ignore the erotic soundtrack occurring across the table. Finally, it's over. I look up in time to see him catch a crumb of chocolate at the corner of his mouth with his tongue, his eye closed. Bloody hell that was hot. Must restraint baser instincts. God, what kind of vampire he would have made. I swallow hard.

"Are you going to eat that?" he asked innocently. I glance down at my half-eaten dessert. Like _hell_ I'm going to put myself through that torture again.

"Uh yeah, I was just thinking." about you naked on black satin sheets. I swiftly eat the treat without looking up. When I'm finished he's casually sipping on his champagne in a way that had me thinking that that show was not as innocently put on as it appeared. I swoop up my own champagne flute and hold it out to him. "A toast." I prescribe.

"To what?" he asks, his flute already for the toast. Good question.

"To thoughts of sex and Manchester United." I say and he laughs.

"To sex and Manchester United." he agrees. We clink glasses. We drink. He's grown up so much. The dishes once again are whisked away and replaced with coffee. "Hey look! The end credits!" I smirk at him and sip the bitter-sweet liquid. "Well that's what you said!"

"I did."

"Why do I have a feeling that you're mentally patting me on my head and saying 'good boy now sit up and beg'?" Uh, something like that. Not so much patting him on the head as something else entirely.

"I have no idea." Unless he's into that sort of thing then . . .

"So what do you think the next part of the date is?"

"No clue."

"I know but it's still fun to guess."

"What? You don't like surprises?"

"Surprises in my book usually equate to ambushes so I'm going with no."

"I don't mind ambushes. They keep you on your toes."

"That's because you're the one usually doing the ambush. I'm usually being ambushed. There's a difference."

"This is true." I giggle.

"What?"

"Just remembering the first time I saw you."

"Yeah, I remember that. Angel was trying to feed me to you."

"Yeah, bastard tried to fool me. It didn't work. Just because I dye my hair blond does not mean that I'm stupid."

"You know, according to Cordelia, willingly dying your hair that shade of blond equals stupidity of the highest degree."

"And yet I pull it off." The _matri'd _came over and handed me a slip of paper. Xander pulled out his wallet to pay.

"_C'est déjà gardé_" the man said quickly and walked away.

"That's what the cab driver said." Xander observed. I raised my eyebrow at him and opened the note. "What does it say?"

"Patience is a virtue."

"I don't get it." I rolled my eyes heavenward, praying for patience.

"That's not what the note says, you git. I was saying that I haven't read it yet."

"Oh. Why didn't you just say that then?" I resist the urge to hit him.

"Because, you twit, I was being clever."

"But are-"

"Stop." I tell him. He closes his mouth with a snap. "Before I hit you and let me read the note, yeah?"

"Okay." He said meekly. I opened the note, again, and read it.

"So not doing that."

"What?"

"Do you want to see an opera?"

"No." I hand him the note. "'Go to the Opera Garnier'" he reads. "Well, that's oddly specific." He stands, dropping his napkin on the table, and holds out his hand to me. "Well, come on. It's a surprise and all that. Besides, if we don't like it, we'll leave." I allowed him to help me to my feet, pick up the bachelor's button on my way up. I've grown to like that little blue flower. We go downstairs hand in hand. Our cab was waiting.

"I'm feeling decidedly manipulated; how about you?" I ask and he laughs. We're laughing a lot this evening, has anyone but me noticed? He just ushers me into the car.

The cab lets us out at the front of the Opera house. Its massive granite exterior glowed white above us, lit up in the Parisian night. "Wow." Xander looked up in awe.

"Neo-Baroque" I said.

"Hey, if it ain't baroque, don't fix it!" This time I can't resist. I hit him upside the head. "Hey! It's bad manners to hit someone upside the head on the first date!"

"Oh? And when is it appropriate?"

"The four date, obviously."

"Obviously." I deadpan. He slings his arms around my shoulders and pulls me in to kiss me on the temple.

"So . . .an opera, huh?"

"Yeah." really don't want to do that. Operas are boring unless you go see ones like La Boheme or the Magic Flute. Possibly Madame Butterfly but it depends on the performance.

"Really don't want to see an opera, do you?" he asked me.

"Pretty much yeah."

"It's still beautiful."

"You think everything in this city is beautiful." I snarked.

"Must explain my sudden and unexplainable attraction to you." he joked back.

"Har de har." I pinch his rear. He jumps about three feet in the air.

"ELP!" I chuckled darkly. "Not funny, Spike!" He said, clutching his bottom.

"Is from my side of things." He let go of his ass to point at me. But before he could retaliate I heard something. I look to my right and there is this tiny mouse of a man trying to get my attention. I unwrap myself from Xander and walk over to him. He starts to motion at Xander. I glance back. Xander shrugs at me and follows. Once the ex-Scooby was level with me the little mousy man motions us closer. He led us into a back allyway which led to a stage door. He opened it and led us inside. What the hell. Also? Our guide smelt like stale cheese. It was quite disgusting, actually.

We were led inside and up into the catwalks of the theatre. Our guide motioned us to silence. I looked down at the empty house of the theatre. The seats were in plush red velvet and the entire house was gilded and glowed softly in the half-light. On stage was a single violin player. He played with all the emotion of a broken heart and true love. I leaned on the rail and Xander came in behind me, his hands on my hips. Our guide bowed to us and disappeared. The violinist was obviously practicing while he could, in the late hours of a weekday. He stopped occasionally and would crack his neck or shake out his fingers. But, when he played, he played so beautifully and with such grace that it would have brought the most hardened heart to break and veins filled with ice to warm in passion. It was beautiful. Xander leaned into me and rested his chin on my shoulder.

"What is he playing?" I shrug.

"He's just improvising it."

"Oh." his arms tightened around my middle. I glanced over at him. He tilted his head at the same time. The music crescendo-ed as I moved in to kiss him and then fell off again as our lips met. He kissed me back passionately. It wasn't the most comfortable of positions for me, my neck craned back like it was, but it was okay because that small bit of discomfort kept me grounded else I would have fallen off into the blissful abyss of his body heat. Eventually, the violinist finished and Xander and I parted. Our guide magically reappeared. Hmm, makes one wonder where he was hiding himself. He led us down and out of the building and back into our taxi after handing me a slip of paper. "Ooo, what does it say?" Xander asked as the cab pulled away from the Opera house.

"You're really getting into this, aren't you?"

"Well yeah. It's kind of neat."

"What about you not liking surprises?"

"These aren't half bad. I mean they could be much worse."

"I suppose." I say and open the note.

"What does it say?" Xander asked a second time but calmer.

"It says 'On a beautiful night like this in Paris you should take a walk.' Looks like we're going to get kicked out of the cab."

"Hmm, can't really complain about that."

"Depends on where he lets us out." Xander grabbed my hand where it rested on the seat between us.

"You know, you should really consider wearing white more often. It suits you and the blue does too." I glance at him. He's trying to be sincere and romantic. It's lost on me.

"You know, I'm not a woman. You don't have to compliment my clothes."

"What if I want to?"

"Then it's a waste of want."

"Spike, take the stupid compliment."

"Fine but I'm doing so under protest that I'm not a girl."

"You know most people just say 'thank-you'." he told me.

"Yeah, well, I'm not most people."

"Tell me about it."

"And yet you're still attracted to me."

"Miracles of miracles ." Xander groused. I smirked and got hit on the back of my head for my troubles. The cab stopped. We were at the foot of the Place de la Concorde. We got out and the cab sped away. "Guess we walk from here."

"Guess so."

"Home is . . ." Xander spun around. "That way." He pointed in a random direction. "It's a long way. At least two hours walk. He started off.

"Wait. We can take a short cut through the gardens." It's the Tuileries. It's worth the trip.

"It's padlocked shut at night, Spike." A minor detail.

"So? Vampire."

"So what? You're going to vault over the pointy iron fence?"

"Well yeah."

"And what about me?" Oh, I didn't think about that. Hmm. I looked at him and then I turned back to the fence. It was doable. I walk up to the fence and bent it open.

"Well come on." Xander shakes his head. I think he was embarrassed that I just bent open a fence that was older then I was. Oh well. Anyways, he walked through it. I bent the bars back into place. There are some really great things about being a vampire. Like super strength. I grab Xander's hand and pull him through the gardens on our way home.

* * *

**_Author After Notes_:** Obviously, I have given up trying to keeping the chapters short and manageable. I'm sorry that it took so long for this chapter to be up. Ironically the only time that I had to write was while I was at work. There is much downtime whilst waiting for cues. Also if you notice, my dear reviewers, some of my clues were very misleading. I'm sorry. I kinda gave them to you before I started writing the chapter. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed the fluffiness furlow because the next chapter the plot and the real world return. Thank goodness, this mushy stuff was just about killing me.

_Meanings of Flowers used_

Bachelor Button-anticipation

**French translations**

_C'est déjà gardé.-_ It is already taken care of.

Loving reviewers at a friendly distance;

Tropic


	15. Entrances of Friends

_**Meetings in Sewers**_

_**By: **_**Tropicwhale**

_**Disclaimer:**_ They are not mine. If they were, things wouldn't be the way they were in the final seasons. Joss Whedon owns all but for the plot and a few miscellaneous things like original characters and he ought to start looking after his property properly because they keep getting hijacked by strange fanpersons wearing "I LOVE SLASH" t-shirts which is just odd.

_**Warning:**_ Bad Language! PLOT! SLASH! Boys are kissing boys! turn back no- oh forget it. See previous chapters

_**This chapter is dedicated to:**_ Goodfairy and Chezzeh and all the patient readers out there who are still reading this after my unexpected furlow.

_**Feedback:**_ I can has lots feedback?

_**Author Notes:**_ So I have a lot of notes to give. First off, I'm so sorry for the lag in updates or the past few weeks but my computer was having troubles and went into the shop to get better. Which leads to good news/bad news; the previous chapters of 'Sewers' were wiped including the original copy of this chapter but I was smart enough to save the table of contents and all my notes to a flash drive so we shall continue on as we always have, sweet yeah? Also, I have over 2500 hits on this fic! Awesomeness. The last note is that I would like to announce a supplement piece to "_**Meetings in Sewers**_" called (predictable) "_**EXTRAS FROM SEWERS**_" composed of deleted scenes from this fic. Please check it out.

* * *

**Chapter 15**:  
_Entrances of Friends_

I'm awoken by a doorbell. I fling off the comforter and untangle myself from a sleeping Spike who is in what I like to call 'limpet-mode' and go to answer the door. I hear the pounding of feet entering the living room on my blind side. I glance over to see all of my team entering from the practice room hallway. I waved them off in gesture of 'I'll get it'. I shuffle into the forayer and unbolted the door. I pull the door open as I yawn "Can I help you?" and rub the sleep from my eye. Stupid, I know, because I'd be blind for the duration but, oh well, can't be helped.

"XANDER!" a familiar, joyous voice screamed. I open my eye wide in surprise to see who was on the other side of the door. I did not squeal like a girl. I swear. No matter what Spike would later say.

"BUFFY! WILLOW! OH MY GOD!" I shout as I get glomped by my two bestest friends in the entire world. The Paris squad rushes in to see what the racket is, probably expecting a fight. That would explain their confused and shocked expressions at the sight of our happy reunion. I calm down for their sakes. They don't know goofy California-boy Xander as well as they know Xander the Commander. Ooo, I like that. Xander the Commander. Much better than Xander the Zeppo or Xander the Donut-boy. Anyways, "Girls, meet the unstoppable Buffy Summers and irreppressable Willow Rosenburg. Buff, Will meet the Parisian squad; the unflappable Kenya, the unshakable Alex, and the unattainable Patricia!" I introduce grandly. Beat that, Bleached Menace.

"Hi."

"Hello"

"Bonjour" My team greeted my friends warily.

"Hi."

"Hello." Buffy and Willow returned the curtsey a little more easily.

"Well now that we're all acquainted; girls why don't you show Buff and Wills into the living room and then find everyone some snacks in the kitchen. I'm going to go get dressed." The women ushered themselves into the living room while I re-bolted the door. Kenya lagged behind.

"Xander? What about-?" I shushed her.

"Not a word about any of it." She salutes (I think half-sarcastically) and we walk into the living room to see what Buffy and Willow want. "Hey, girls. Just give me a moment to get dressed." I'm wearing green boxers with yellow rubber ducks all over them and a white t-shirt that states in very small black letters 'If you can read this than you're close enough to blow me' (Spike bought it for me a couple of weeks ago, don't ask). Whereas this attire may be okay for my boyfriend to see but I'd rather not my gal-pals to see it. A boyfriend, I would like to mention, I can't exactly show off to said gal-pals and who'd rather not be seen by them either. I think this counts as a dilemma, possible a crisis. It's up in the air at the moment. It could go either way.

"Oh, don't worry about it." Buffy said. "We'll just sit here and get acquainted over nummy French treats." I hope Kenya can keep the other girls mum about Spike. I walk into bedroom three ticks from a mental breakdown or possible a heart attack. Either one is possible at the moment. There's just too much stress in my life. I should consider getting out of the saving the world business and into something less stressful like running with the bulls or being a suicide bomber.

I warn Spike about Buffy and Willow while I change and race back out to the living room. The girls were not chattering away at each other like I had thought they would be but sat in awkward silence. Uh-oh. Xan-man to the rescue! This time the cavalry isn't a scared guy with a rock but a gay guy with an eye patch. It's a step up. "So a quiet roomful of pretty girls; that means one of two things. Either you found a cockroach in the onion dip or you were gossiping about me. Neither of which is of the good. So spill, why am I in the doghouse this time?"

"We weren't talking about you." Patricia corrects quietly.

"We weren't talking about anything." Alex adds while the three youngest girls stare at their feet. Buffy and Willow just look around the room, not making eye contact with anyone.

"Come on, you girls have got to have something in common. Four of you are slayers and the one that isn't is dating one. We're all on the same side. You all love me because I'm the cutest Cyclops in the world, sexier than Brad Pitt and George Clooney with an eye patch." Buffy and Willow grinned at my classically patented Xander-style humor. The Paris squad wrinkled up their faces in confusion. I sigh. "Have you three learned nothing from team movie night?"

"We learned that Spike-omph!" Kenya elbowed Alex right out of the loveseat. "ow!" the red-head rubbed her tailbone where she fell on it.

"Sorry." Kenya looked completely unrepentant.

"As I was saying we learned that Spike Lee movies are cool beyond reason." Alex finished. Kenya kicked her in the small of the back. Alex retaliated by elbowing her squadmate in the shin.

"Girls." I use my Giles-voice. I stand by what I said earlier when I stated that Spike is a bad influence on them.

"Sorry, Xander." The pair intone. Buffy grins.

"You got them trained!"

"Not really. They're really rough around the edges, not to mention we lost our squad leader, Emma, a month ago." Willow frowned sympathetically.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Patricia and the others made non-committal physical gestures.

"So I should send you another slayer when we make it back to HQ?" Buffy asked professionally. Well, that's my girl, all business. My other girls, especially the Paris squad, stiffened at the suggestion.

"Not yet." I say. "Wait, another month. In fact, Emma's death have made these girls closer as a team and more efficient in the field. They're determined and strong. I'm proud of them." The girls brightened up at that. "But I want them to stabilize as a core squad before introducing anyone new just yet." I gave my recommendation. Buffy nodded.

"Okay." Patricia visibly relaxed while Kenya and Alex smiled tensely. "But down to business" she adds.

"What? You didn't drop into Paris to visit your favorite guy just because?" Buffy smiles and pushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Sadly, no." At least she attempted to look apologetic. It didn't work but it was worth the attempt. "I received another visit from Twilight. Thankfully this time he restrained from dropping a steeple on me and my squad." My blood ran a little colder. It couldn't be.

"Oh?" That's it, Harris, play it cool. Should be easy seeing as your blood is turning to ice in apprehension. "What did our newest Big Bad want?" I ask, moving to grab a chip and dip it in the onion dip.

"To gloat. A lot." Buffy said simply. Oh god, she knows _everything_! Spike, the book, my sudden gayness! Everything! Gah! "Apparently, one of his lackies has hold of this book that can destroy the world, the Grim-more-"

"Grimmoire of Morgan Le Fay." Willow interjected.

"Right. Apparently, according to Twilight, you know what? I'm going to let Willow explain."

"Thank-you, Buffy." Willow said graciously. "And it's not just according to Twilight. According to legend, and the books, Morgan Le Fay used a spell in it to halt the magic of Excalibur and the protective magicks that were cast over the Knights of the Round Table allowing Mordred to thrust the blow that ultimately killed King Arthur and started a ripple effect that canceled out the most powerful magicks in the entire world, destroying any individuals connected to it. It took out the ancient gods' physical forms, Morgan herself, and some of the most powerful demons on the face of the planet. Which is why we've never gone up against a demon over 700 years old. They all died off. Only low-level magical beings survived and the population as a whole hasn't rebooted until this past century actually. It's all quite fascinating, really-" Willow drew in a breath but before she could continue Buffy interrupted.

"Will, the point?"

"If the book is used again, then we're all doomed." Willow shrugged.

"So because I'm not magical at all and all normal guy I should be safe?" I ask, sitting in between my two friends to have better access to the baguette and brie cheese. Willow hit me upside the head and Buffy socked me in the arm. "Ow and _ow_." I tell them and cut some bread and spread some of the slightly bitter soft cheese on it. "Why do I have to have such violent friends?" I ask rhetorically.

"Anyway the book is in the hands of Twilight's lackey." Buffy says.

"Wait, what?" I ask, intelligently.

"That is not possible." Kenya added.

"Why not?" Willow asked.

"We have the book." I say.

"Then why would Twilight gloat about his goons having it?" Buffy asked. "He may be evil but he doesn't seem the time to gloat without some basis in fact."

"Yeah, because we all want villains who gloat without basis." I snark.

"Well, they're easier to defeat." Willow shrugged. "Maybe the book you guys have is a fake?" I stand and race to my room where the book was hidden. Spike is already racing through our things looking for it. I help him. He stops me with a hand on my forearm and looks me in the eye.

"The book is gone."

* * *

**_Author After Notes:_** The Plot thickens. See us next time on "Meetings in Sewers"

Love those that review at a friendly distance;

Tropic


	16. Battles for Books

_**Meetings in Sewers**_

_**By: **_**Tropicwhale**

_**Disclaimer:**_ They are not mine. If they were, things wouldn't be the way they were in the final seasons. Joss Whedon owns all but for the plot and a few miscellaneous things like original characters and he ought to start looking after his property properly because they keep getting hijacked by strange fanpersons wearing "I LOVE SLASH" t-shirts which is just odd.

_**Warning:**_ Bad Language! PLOT! SLASH! Boys are kissing boys! turn back no- oh forget it. See previous chapters

_**This chapter is dedicated to:**_ _**jazzy2may**_ who is giving me vampire fangs for this chapter, _**Goodfairy**_ (that 'good fairy of reviews') who wants something to happen that might not happen until the sequel (if there is one), _**chezzeh**_ who is just having a good time reading "Sewers" and to the rookies of the group _**Alwaysand**_ who thinks my story is good and _**QuikSylver**_ who just loves this story. This is for you.

_**Feedback:**_ I can has lots of feedback?

_**Author Notes:**_ I'm blaming the fact I have 5 (yay) reviews for chapter 15 on the fact that I left it on a cliff hanger and not on Buffy's sudden appearance because she was already in "Sewers". I'm dizzy and getting nosebleeds from the high altitudes of this chapter and am quite nervous to keep up the quality of the fic. Also I would like to make a correction to last chapter's Author Notes; the supplemental piece is entitled "**_EXTRAS from Meetings in Sewers_**" instead of "EXTRAS from Sewers" like I had said. A small error, but an error nonetheless. I'm sorry.

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**Chapter Sixteen**:  
_Battles for Books_

Xander ran out and informed the women of our discovery as I paced back and forth in the bedroom. Night fell and Xander returned, once again changing his clothes to something more appropriate to hunt down the book. We were in a safe house. Which means that there were few opportunities and even fewer people who could have taken the book. I had a sinking feeling that . . . it wouldn't do to think on it though. Xander has gone out and come back into the room a few times. I've dressed and am in the process of lacing up my boots. "What are you doing?"

"Look, that book is my responsibility-"

"Not anymore." I ignore him and continue.

"And I need to return it to Peaches back in L.A.. Like hell I'm going to let you go out there without me." I dig through the closet for my trench.

"No Spike, it's too dangerous. If Buffy or Willow see you-"

"They won't see me, pet, promise. Besides, its not like you can afford to keep me out of the search, possibly the fight."

"The girls can handle that part." He says blankly. Buggering little oblivious twit! I straighten and walk up to him, pining him against the dresser where he stood.

"Yeah, they can take care of the book and whatever goon that has it plus whatever minions and soldiers are guarding the goon. But who's going to watch your back, Watcher?"

"'M not a Watcher, Spike."

"You're acting like it. Watchin' me get dressed."

"Spike." He whines. I place my hands on his hips.

"Xander." I stretch up to kiss him on the lips. This 'no sex' rule is just about killing me. "I mean it. You're not blocking me out of this fight, not when there are several people I care about involved."

"Buffy."

"Yeah, Buffy. But she can take care of herself. Same with Red. I'm talking about Patricia and Alex and Kenya . . .and you. I care about you, Xan, and like it or not you're a liability. One that I need to look after. So no arguin', yeah?" A goofy grin came on his face. "Wot?"

"You care about me?"

"Yeah." Now, it's my turn to be confused. Xander lays both his arms on my shoulders and crosses them loosely behind my head.

"You care about me." he states, a goofy grin plastered onto his face. I snort in derision.

"Of course I do. Wouldn't be in a bleeding relationship with you if I didn't." Sometimes he could be so obtuse. Xander's hands dropped to my ribcage and pulled me into a kiss, his arms curling around my torso, forcing my own up to his biceps. Our bodies touched from chest to legs and electricity zapped up my spine. He widened his stance so my body was bracketed on all sides by Xander. I slide my hands up to cup his face and mashed our open mouths together, our tongues dueling, slipping and sliding together. Xander gasps for breath and his hands grab hold of my hips. I grind up on him making him gasp again. His hands slide up to grab my neck, his tongue thrusting into my mouth. I hiss at the subconscious dominance of the act, hard and willing. Necks, for obvious reasons, have great significance for vampires. The fact that he grabbed my neck in both hands and not my face or shoulders said only one thing to my demon, 'mine'. I grind up against him, again, revealing in the act. And then cool metal lay on my chest. I put back in shock. "Wot?" I grabbed at the thing and held it out to where I could see it. It was a small silver coin with a weird swirly design painted on it in black. A hole was punched through it with a leather strap holding it to my neck.

"Willow made that for me years back right after Sunnydale imploded. It protects me in the field from anyone I don't want to see me. I told her that I lost it and asked her to make me another one which she's doing right now. I figured that you'd want to come hunting and that there was nothing I could say to make you stay here and be safe so it's yours." He bloody well gave me jewelry, enchanted protective amulet-type jewelry, but jewelry nonetheless.

"Thanks, luv." I say my voice catching. It was annoyingly endearing that he's giving this to me on many levels. The sign of dominance and ownership, the protective nature of the charm and the fact that it was something that was special to Xander. Xander shrugs self-consciously. I quirk an eyebrow. He gives me a half-smile. I press up against him and give him a kiss on the cheek. "Let's go find the book, yeah?" I whisper.

In the end, it was decided (by Buffy naturally) that we were to spilt into teams, Buffy and Willow would take aerial sweeps over the city, Kenya and Alex would patrol the streets while Xander and Patricia (along with yours truly) would take the sewers and the catacombs. Com's were handed out and we all march to the door to take on the city of lights with me staying as far away from Buffy and Willow as I could so not to bump into them and cancel out the spell of invisibility (Willow's little charm worked, well, like a charm). All the hullabaloo ended up being for not. There was a note attached to the backdoor with a dagger. Xander snatched at it and read over it once before handing it to Buffy.

"In the spirit of fair play you have one chance to retrieve the Grimmoire." she read aloud. "Meet in the Court of Miracles tonight and have the chance to redeem yourselves."

"The Court of Miracles?" Alex asks. "Isn't that in just in the Disney movie?"

"No, it is in Victor Hugo's book, The Hunchback of Notre Dame as well. It appears to have basis in fact." Kenya corrects.

"Question is how to find it." Buffy says, wryly.

"Well in the movie it was in the catacombs." Willow said. That is sort of true. I lean in close to Xander so the girls don't hear me.

"It's actually in the sewers." I whisper. Xander cants his head to the side to look at me. He raises his eyebrows. "Dru and I-" he held up a hand discreetly to tell me that he got it. He turned back to the women.

"Yeah, but most of the catacombs are tourist traps now. It's not like an entire city's underworld can hide in them anymore. Maybe the sewers?" Go Xander! Cover for me and sound all smart. I'm so proud. He wears darker clothes, is more sarcastic, and is actually using his head; now if I can just get him to wear leather and go commando . . .what? you expect something else from me? Not bloody likely so don't go holdin' your breath (if you breath), yeah? I give the thumbs up and a grin. He gives me a half-smile in return. Buffy thought it over.

"That makes sense. If I knew what the Court of Miracles was outside a Disney scene." she said.

"The Court of Miracles is, according to Victor Hugo, the place where all the miscreants, the monsters, thieves, beggars, prostitutes hid whenever the, what is the word? Authories, authorities, that is it, whenever the authorities came looking for them."

"So we're looking for what? A demon haven?" Buffy crossed her arms over herself, a sign that she was all business.

"Something like that. Only all outlaws are allowed not just preternatural ones."

"So where in the sewers is the question. Only problem is in a city this size there's massive sewer mileage we need to cover." Xander perked right up.

"Hey! Where in the Sewers is Carmen San Diego." Can I hit him? Please? Pretty please with vampire fangs on top? No? Damn. "What? No nineties style throwbacks to an awesome and educational franchise? Fine." He leans against the wall. I lean next to him so that our sides are in contact. Alex throws me a grin but I place my finger to my lips with a smirk of my own to keep her silent.

"It sounds like we need a plan." She says "And maps of the city's underground, catacombs and sewers systems. If there is a place they overlap, it's probably there."

"Sounds like a plan." Buffy stated "Xander, do you have-"

"Already on it." They all head back inside. Patricia wretches the dagger out of the door and I grab her elbow.

"Hold up a bit, Bubbles." She stands still as the others file indoors.

"I've been meaning to ask you . . . why do you call me Bubbles?"

"Your bubbly personality."

"Oh." She looked confused.

"Look, all that map stuff is useless. I know where the Court of Miracles is." I tell her. Her eyes widen in disbelieve. "It's found in the sewers beneath Père-Lachaise Cemetery. But you have to-there's a special way of entering it."

"How?" Patricia's back was straight; she looked me in my eyes and didn't flicker. This was what a slayer should be. I smiled at her.

"You got to be bad, baby."

We sat on the step of the backdoor of the safehouse and discussed how this was going to work. Patricia decided to mention the sewer systems below Père-Lachaise while I go on ahead and see if we can draw our enemy out of the Court. See the way into the Court was booby-trapped and you could only get in if you already knew how. There was no way that I would be able to lead the girls and Xander in without revealing myself to Buffy and Willow, and I'm just not ready for that yet. Patricia would also figure out a way to convince the team to check the northeastern corner of the city first, which is where the Court of Miracles was. It wouldn't do to have them traipsing around the city and then be ambushed by whatever baddie we were up against all tired and out of breath. Patricia went back inside and I slipped down the sewers access that was in the alleyway. I got as far as a block before I heard the sounds of footsteps behind me. It was too soon for Patricia to convince the rest of them that they should check the northeastern corner of the city first and besides there was only one set of footfall. I slowed to a stop. The footsteps were too heavy to be any of the girls. Sure enough, Xander came into view in a few seconds. "You know, that's really dangerous. Coming down here without back-up." Xander caught up to me half out of breath. He tapped the side of his head.

"Com link." He huffed. "Besides, Patricia will catch up in a minute. She said that she remembered something from her high school literature class about the Court of Miracles. Something that it was beneath a cemetery." I smirk. Smart girl. "We're still splitting up into squads but it seems the only cemeteries that fit the bill would be in the northeastern corner of the city." He explains.

"I wonder why that is." I say. He glares at me. "Wot?" I didn't do anything wrong.

"Anyways," he continued, finally catching his breath. "Patricia and I are going to check out the oldest and the others are going after the others. If any of us find anything we're to stay in communication."

"Which will be us."

"Yup."

"Cor." Xander suddenly grabs my hand and pulls me into a hug. "Wot?"

"I've been thinking."

"I thought I smelt smoke." I got rattled for my troubles. "Ahh, stop it." Xander stopped shaking me and warm, chapped lips kissed where my jaw met my neck. "Wot is it, pet?" I rested my hands on his waist.

"I want to have sex with you." I blinked. Huh?

"Now?" Xander didn't seem to be one to be that kinky.

"No not _now_." Love that little edge of panic in his voice when he said that. "But soon. Maybe after Buffy and Wills leave." Ah.

"Alright." He pulls back suddenly.

"That's it?" Huh?

"What do you mean?"

"No jokes or questions or highly inappropriate suggestions?"

"No." I say slowly.

"But you're you. All that stuff is in the packaging and advertisements." Now, I'm confused.

"So you want me to act like that?"

"No. It's just unexpected. You know? I mean you spend most of our time alone together trying to get into my pants and now that I'm saying that I want to have sex with you all I get is an 'alright'? It doesn't make any sense-"

"You're babbling. Look, I've wanted to have sex with you for awhile, yeah, but that doesn't mean that I don't see how big of a deal this is for you. I was waiting for you to come around, is all."

"Oh." He looks shell-shocked.

"We okay, pet?" he grins that puppy grin of his.

"Yeah." Good.

"C'mere." I pull him into a kiss. He pulls me flush into his body and wraps his arms around me. My one hand comes up to stroke his face while the other maintains its hold on his belt loops. He hums happily and wiggles a little. I grin into the kiss.

"Come on you two, we have work to do." Xander snaps away from me. Patricia is smiling at us. I smirk back at her. "I can't see how you to manage to make-out down here. It stinks."

"Yeah bit, you should try it from my side." I tell her. "Take a hundred dead rodents and-" Patricia holds up a hand.

"I get it. Please don't go on. Lets go defeat the baddie." She starts off.

"Now that's a Slayer." I say. Xander grins at me.

"She's come into her own since you got here. Thank you." He steals a quick kiss.

"Are you two coming or what?"

"Yeah, we're coming." I lean up to whisper in his ear.

"Actually, we're following. The coming will come later. A couple of times." Xander blushed and pinched me in the side. I bounced away and followed Patricia.

We get to the entrance of the Court of Miracles and are shocked to see that the other teams are there as well, along with guards. Xander glances at Buffy and Willow. Patricia turns to her teammates. "What's going on?" she asks them.

"Apparently, our baddie had guides posted at all the cemeteries, below and above ground." Alex told her. "They brought us here." So much for needing com-links. I lean into Patricia and whisper to her.

"So where's our baddie?" She chewed on her lower lip and looked around. One of the guards stepped up.

"Because you all are" he grinned. Human, as were the other guards. Whoever this baddie was, they knew that having human guards on us would give us pause in attacking. "heroes and not on the wrong side of the law access to the Court of Miracles is barred." He spoke with a heavy accent. "But your host will be out shortly." The entrance to the Court of Miracles was a simple sewer access point except it had an image of a triangle with star inside it crudely engraved into the cement next to it and painted red. It stood at a nexus of five other sewers and I could smell the graveyard dirt right above our heads. If anyone was foolish enough to enter into the Court without an invite the King of Truands would merely dig into the ceiling and wall and hid the body in Père-Lachaise. It was a simple, elegant solution. Buffy tossed her head like an impatient horse.

"So how long to we have to wait?"

"Not long." I shut my eyes against the inevitable. Patricia's soft gasp told me that I did not hear wrong. I open my eyes again and there is Beledia standing at the entrance to the Court of Miracles, holding the Grimmoire of Morgan Le Fay.

"_Mama_?" Kenya starts forward but was stopped by Alex's hand on her arm. "I do not understand." Beledia ignores her daughter and stares right at Buffy.

"So you are Buffy Summers, the woman I have to thank for ruining my daughter's life?"

"And what if I am?" Buffy retorts, already to fight. I spare a glance at Xander. He's frozen.

"If Twilight hadn't ordered me to give to you a chance to recover this book I would have already spoke the spell that would take away my daughter's slayer abilities."

"You knew I was a slayer?" Kenya asks. Beledia glances at her.

"Of course I do. I didn't realize it until Twilight told me but in the end it all made sense. Did you never wonder why I never questioned you moving into a house with other girls and one adult man? Or never asked about your injures or Emma's obviously questionable death?" Patricia stiffened beside me. "Or all the blood in the refrigerator? Or the vampire's presence?" I stiffened and glanced at Buffy. If someone says my name then the spell on the charm would be broken and Buffy would see me. That would be bad.

"What vampire?" Buffy asks. I tense, prepping to deal with what would be a very surprised Slayer.

"Training exercise, Buff. He's gone." Xander spoke up quietly. He wasn't suppose to get into the fight either and was wearing a second charm.

"Never mind." Buffy said quickly. "Look why don't you just hand me the book and-"

"That's not how this is going to work, Ms. Summers."

"Oh. Well why don't you inform me on how it is going to work." Buffy sniped back.

"You and I are going into the Court of Miracles and we're going to let the King of Truands decide. We are, afterall, on his turf."

"Like hell I'm going to let some demon-"

"The King of Truands is not a demon. He is as human I am."

"How do I know you're not a half-demon yourself?"

"She is my mother." Kenya defended. "She is human. I just do not understand why you are doing this, _Mama_. If you knew all along then why-" Kenya was near tears. It ripped at my heart to see such a strong young woman in pain.

"I want you to have a nice, happy, long life." Beledia finally looked at her daughter. "According to Twilight slayers have such a short lifespan. I've seen it for myself. Emma was younger than you are, and so are Patricia and Alex as well. I love them like I love you. I don't want to see you dead or worse. Your Grand_mama_ was a _sorcière_. I have the ability as well. I say the spell and then you will be safe. You all will." Beledia was crying, too. I glance to our guards, they were being shifty.

"It's a shame the magic doesn't work like that." Willow spoke up, with authority. "If you say the spell then everything magic dies. Even you. And your daughter and her teammates. We all die." Beledia looked at her sharply.

"That is not what Twilight said."

"Twilight lies." Willow told her, her resolve face firmly in place. "You'd be killing your daughter, not saving her." Tears started to roll down Beledia's face, and she lowers the book that she had clutched to her ample chest.

"_Non_." she whimpers.

"Yes." Willow looks into her eyes, stone-cold serious. Kenya shakes off Alex and steps forward.

"_Mama_," she says "Give me the book. We have a place we can send it so it will be safe and Twilight cannot get his hands on it. Please, _Mama_, don't do this." Beledia half-ran to her daughter and they embraced, the book between them. "_Mama_, oh _Mama_!" Kenya cried. The guard that had spoken stepped forward.

"I am sorry but Twilight wants that book." The other guards shifted forward. Beledia looked at him in shock. I slipped back behind the thug closest to me. Alex and Patricia very carefully got ready for battle.

"You lied." Beledia let Kenya go to stare at the brute.

"And for a woman who works in the Red Cross you are refreshingly naïve." He laughed. The guards attacked. It was a sadly quick fight. Buffy punch one guy out with a single hit. Willow slammed two into the ceiling with her power. The guy that I was behind I grabbed by the nape of his shirt and slammed him into the wall behind me. Alex kicked one guy in the gut and then head butted him. Patricia just pile-drove one guy into the floor. Kenya went after the head guy. She snapped-kicked him in the groin, got him into a half-nelson and slammed him once, twice, three times into the wall, her braids flying.

"That was easy." Buffy said, sounding slightly disappointed. I have to grin, that's my girl.

"Too easy." Xander attempted his Nick Fury impression. I have to roll my eyes, that's my boy.

"Let's hope that's all." Buffy laughs.

"It is." Beledia confirmed. She sounds shaky. I think she's still in shock about what she was about to do to her daughter.

"Then let's head back to base." Buffy and Willow head past Xander to go down the tunnel we came down. Beledia and Kenya followed them, the Grimmoire safely in the hands of Kenya. Xander and I went next and Alex and Patricia took the six. I was soo sending the Grimmoire back to Angel the second we got back home. Xander bumped my shoulder. I look over at him and he grins. I return the smile. It could have been worse.

* * *

_**Author After Notes**_: It's disturbing how close we are to the end. Only four more chapters left and then the epilogue. At this point my thoughts begin to turn to the written projects in my real life that I've neglected to finish writing this fic. I won't say that it's been a fun ride because the ride isn't over yet. That comes later. But my thoughts turn to a sequel that might be making an appearance in a few months or other stories in other fandoms that have potential. Anything is possible at this point. It's a daunting thought.

Also, apparently Renee died in the comics as well. I rock, and sort of saw it coming.

French Translations

_Sorcière_-witch

_Mama_- mother (duh)

_Non_- no (again duh)

I have a special request. I want to boost up my reviews (not that I don't appreciate all the ones I have) and was wondering if the 13 people that have "Sewers" on Story Alert would mind all reviewing this chapter. I think it would be neat to have those loyal readers showing their support. It's really easy, just type what you like about this story and hit "submit review". Be honest. I just want to know what its like to have 13 reviews for one chapter. Thank you.

Loving readers that review at a friendly non-threatening distance;

Tropic


	17. Exits of Scoobies

**_Meetings in Sewers_**

**_By: _****Tropicwhale**

_**Disclaimer:**_They are not mine. If they were, things wouldn't be the way they were in the final seasons. Joss Whedon owns all but for the plot and a few miscellaneous things like original characters and he ought to start looking after his property properly because they keep getting hijacked by strange fanpersons wearing "I LOVE SLASH" t-shirts which is just odd.

_**Warning:**_ Bad Language! PLOT! SLASH! Boys are kissing boys! turn back no- oh forget it. See previous chapters

**_This chapter is dedicated to: _**QuikSylver, chezzeh, Goodfairy, Alwaysand, Davinci. Ooo, look at the pun in the dedication! I totally didn't plan that, so neat!

_**Feedback:**_I can has lots of feedback? Plez?

_**Author Notes:**_I'm sad that no one freaked out over that fact that Xander said "Spike, I want to have sex with you.". What? You don't think I have it in me? Because I do. :)

* * *

**Chapter 17:**  
_Exits of Scoobies_

We get back to the safe house safe and sound. Spike hit me on my arm lightly to get my attention. "Let me borrow your cell." He said.

"In our room on the nightstand." He nods and goes into the room. I collect the com links while Beledia goes and makes coffee. I put away the com links and come back to see my slayers and my witch in a circle.

"Okay here's how it goes." Alex started. I grin. My squad is so evil. "You snap," she snaps her fingers, Kenya and Patricia snap their fingers. Buffy and Willow look at each other and then back at Alex. "Snap." She orders. She snaps again so do Kenya and Patricia. Still looking doubtful and confused Buffy and Willow snap their fingers. The second that they do Patricia, Alex, and Kenya put their fingers on their noses.

"Not it." They say together. Willow then Buffy put fingers on their noses, totally lost.

"Xander? Judgement call?" Kenya asks. I move over to the group. I point at Buffy.

"Last." I point at Willow. "Second to last" I point at Kenya "Third" Alex was next "Fourth." I point at Patricia "Good reflexes, Patricia you're second."

"uh Xander, what's up?" Buffy asked her finger still on her nose.

"We only have one bathroom and you are now last in line to get in the shower. Have fun with the cold water." She pouts. "Uh-huh, that won't work, we have rules in place for it." Buffy rolls her eyes.

"Fine, I've smelt worse."

"Who's first?" Willow asked.

"Me. Also house rules." I grin and dart into the bathroom. I turn on the water as hot as it will go and start pulling off my clothes and throwing them in the hamper and then there was a knock on the door. "What?"

"Xan? Open up!" Patricia's voice called. I open the door. Spike slips in past me. Patricia grins at me. "Hey, take a quick shower, will you? We have more people in the house." She hands me clean clothes and a towel.

"Patricia. You know that there's a ten minute rule for showers."

"I know, but you didn't fight, you're less stinky then the rest of us women."

"You women always smell funny, if you ask me." Spike said from behind me.

"Xander?" Patricia ignored the vampire.

"Yeah okay. Go away now." I shut the door. "Was that necessary?" I asked my boyfriend.

"Yes"

"No, it wasn't."

"You want to explain to your friends why doors are opening and closing by themselves? God, sneaking into showers was so much easier when I was incorporeal." Did he just say what I think he just said?

"Wait, what?"

"Wot?"

"Did you just-?"

"Wot?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Nothing."

"Right."

"Right. Anyway, why are you in here?"

"I want my shower, and if you hadn't noticed I was in the sewers as well. And I actually fought." No way in Sunnydale, was that happening.

"What!? That cuts my shower time in half! And you don't sweat!"

"Not if we do it right." He striping out of his trench coat and shirts. Uh . . .

"Wait?" he raised his eyebrow. "uh."

"That was intelligent."

"It'll take longer than ten minutes?" I ask. Spike rolls his eyes at me.

"You know, contradictory to popular opinion, not everything I do is about sex or violence." He sat on the toilet seat to pull off his boots "Well, sex and/or violence. They're occasionally interchangable in my case. Did it ever occur to you I might just want to wash off the stench of the sewers?" He stood and pulled off his pants and stepped into the shower. There was a beat that was filled only with the sound of the shower going. "Pet, you coming?"

"Uh, yeah." I take off the rest of my clothes mechanically and join Spike in the shower. It's just like showers after gym class, no biggie, except I'm showering with just one guy instead of many and none of the guys I showered with back then ever coveted my ass . . . that I know of. Spike smashed me against the shower wall. Whoa nakedness!

"Will you stop freaking out? You're the one that wants to have sex; you're going to have to get use to being naked around me. This is a perfect opportunity." Oh.

"You sound like you planned this all out."

"I did." Double oh. Spike smirks at me. "What? My plans work. Just not when they involve Buffy . . . or Red . . . or you, usually . . . and occasionally Angel but that's besides the point. The point is we have six minutes to bath." He grins and reaches behind me to grab the shampoo and starts to lather up. He raises an eyebrow at me. I catch on and grab the shampoo bottle myself. He glances down then tilts his head to the side, grinning, and catching the spray along the side of his head. When he's sure that he has my attention he rolls his neck, catching the water all over his soaped up scalp, washing away the foam. I shake my head to clear it and Spike chuckles lowly. I soap up to ignore the bleach bonehead. He chuckles again at the attempt and drops to his knees. Holy Ha-there's a knock on the door.

"Time's up, Xander!" Alex called. I laugh at little at the look on Spike's face. He's kneeling on the floor of the bath, his hair standing up in wet ringlets because that's what his hair does unless it's continually soaked and the water pressure at the safehouse? not so good, and he's glaring through the clear plastic shower curtain at the door with this face that is halfway between pouty and angry. He looks so put-out. He looks back up at me and glares. The effect is ruined by a drop of water that chooses that moment to drip off his nose. I crack up into silent giggles. I'm laughing so hard that I nearly slip and crack my skull open. Spike surges to his feet and caught me.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." It was at that point that I realized that my naked body was wetly pressed against Spike's naked body. There are most definitely physical reactions. My heart is pounding, my breath catches, I feel light-headed, and I'm most definitely noticably aroused. There is a pounding on the door; it sounds like all my slayers are trying to beat the door down. Spike lets go and turns off the water. I am freezing from the sudden retreat of the contact and the hot water. Spike jumps out of the shower and dries off and then tosses me the towel as he dresses and starts throwing me my clothes as I start dressing. I toss the towel into the hamper. Spike fiddles with his charm. I adjust my eye patch and take over tying the necklace back on. "Come on." We exit the bathroom. "All yours Patricia." She practically runs Spike over to get to the shower and slams the door shut. I lock glazes with Buffy and we both grin. Spike nudges me and heads into the bedroom. I start to follow after him but was stopped by Buffy. Dammit, so close.

"So, I think that after Willow and I get cleaned up, we're going to fly out and back to HQ." I straighten at that.

"Oh no! You're going to miss the 'we won the fight' lattes. They're French here in France you know." I said, bouncing up and down.

"Tempting." She laughed. "But we need to get back."

"Oh." I pout and I get a hug from Buffy.

"What are you going to do with the book?" Oh, truth time.

"Angel gave me a call a few weeks ago. He told me that knew how to get rid of the book. I'm going to go to America once the Paris squad is up to par and deliver it to him myself." What? You thought I was going to tell her that Spike's around? I don't think so. "The book is going to him, Buffy." I said with all the authority I possessed. It paid off because Buffy nodded.

"Okay, just be careful. I don't know if we can trust Angel."

"Hey," I give her a look that is partly a grin and partly reproachful "I've never trusted Angel." I feel obligated to point out to her. She smiled.

"I know. And I'm starving."

"There's sandwiches in the kitchen." Beledia said. "Xander, can I talk to you?" Buffy smiled and darted into the kitchen with a pat on my arm.

"Sure, Beledia. What is it?"

"I hope you understand where I am coming from and also I'm sorry." I look at her.

"Come here." I lead her upstairs to Kenya's and Patricia's room. I sit down on Kenya's bed. Beledia sits down on Alex's. "You damn near killed all of my friends. Not to mention all of the girls out there that never asked for this but do the job-"

"That's right. They never asked for this. Kenya didn't ask for it. That woman downstairs just made an executive decision to ruin hundreds of girls' lives!"

"There was more to it than you realize. I was there, Beledia. We all were at risk. It was going to kill us all, even Kenya. It was trying to destroy the world."

"What was trying to kill you all?" Derision dripped from her tone.

"The First Evil. One of its minions took my eye. A vampire by the name of Caleb. It messed with all of our minds, especially Spike's and killed who knows how many girls just to get to Buffy and wipe out the line of Slayers for good. The spell we used-it was the only way to make sure that the First wouldn't win. We were out of choices. Ask Spike. He wouldn't lie to you."

"No, he wouldn't. Which is strange seeing as he's a vampire. I assume Summers is the friend of yours that he has a complicated relationship with?"

"Yes. He was her stalker." I got a raised eyebrow for that. "He was an evil soulless undead villain and through circumstances beyond any of our control" as annoying as _that_ was "he ended up on our side and developed a little crush on her. Which is understandable because I had a little crush on her but he took it to stalker level."

"He's a monster."

"He's a monster with a soul. He's Quasimodo. Except better looking." I considered that statement for a moment. "And British."

"And what if that soul were to leave? His grandsire has that problem. What if he goes and turns on you? On my daughter?" Damn but Twilight needed to be taken out. He's pulled every slight, every failing we've ever done and twisted it to make us look like the boogeymen. Yeah, most of us (except for me) have superpowers and we fight things that most people can't even begin to comprehend but we're only human . . .except for Spike and Angel, they're humanoid.

"He can't. He asked for his soul. It's stuck. Besides, whatever we've done, whatever we've gone through- we tried our best. There isn't anyone else to do the things we do. Beledia, I've been fighting the Good Fight since I was Patricia's age. I'velost friends, good friends, and my left eye trying to do the right thing. I would never let anything happen to your daughter if I could. But the truth is that there's no way we can go back and your daughter has the ability to save the entire world. She's part of something big. All the slayers have a connection to each other. She will never be truly alone, ever. Besides, there's a reason why she wanted to stay in Paris, you. She has her mother by her side; she has family and friends, that's why Buffy's lasted as long as she has, because she has something to hold on to, something that will keep her grounded. I'm leaving for the States soon, Spike and me both. I've taught the Paris squad the basics and more girls will be coming into town soon and they'll need someone to look out for them, what we call a Watcher. I was wondering, even before tonight, if you would like the job."

"I just betrayed you." She said, confused. "How can you trust me with the lives of these girls?"

"Because you care. You are a den mother, Beledia. You've been more of a mother to me than my own mother was. I trust you. It couldn't all havebeen an act; you gave up the Grimmoire too quickly for it to be all just an act. The job's yours as long as you promise not to betray them anymore." I put on my best kicked puppy dog look. "Beledia? What do you say? This way you can be reassured that Kenya and the others are being looked after properly." Her eyes tear up.

"Oh Xander! I would be honored!" She leaped up and hugged me. "Come, you are losing weight. There are sandwiches downstairs" She pulled me to my feet. "And you will need protein if you're going _aller toute la nuit_ with your _petit ami_?"

"What?'

"Oh what is the English translation? Go all night with your . . . hmm, Spike?" Mother figures should not use any sexual expressions whatsoever.

"Wha-!? Oh no! I mean? Uh-" Beledia smirked and raised an eyebrow.

"My, my. That bright red blush is adorable but completely useless in your defense but the stutter works quite well. What are you waiting for? Go get him, _tigre_." I darted out of the room and was partly down the stairs before I realize what it must have looked like to her so I darted back and stuck my head into the door.

"Just so you know, I'm not running away from you to have sex with my boyfriend, I'm running away because you're _freaking me out_." I explain.

"That is fine, _cher_, just remember to use protection and lots of lubricate. Remember, anal sex is no fun if you don't do the proper prep work for it." I felt the blood rush to my face, it must have been beet red because Beledia started cracking up. Her laughter followed me downstairs. Willow met me as I raced passed Kenya heading upstairs to talk to her mother.

"Hey, Xander!" Willow smiled at me. "Is everything okay now with Kenya's mother?"

"Wha-? Oh yeah, fine."

"Are you okay?"

"Wha-? Oh yeah, fine." She dragged me aside by the elbow.

"Okay, mister, spill. What has you bright red?"

"Just something Beledia said about my love life."

"What did she say?" Willow looked up at me curiously. I should tell her. I fidgeted.

"Nothing."

"Alexander LavelleHarris." She had her resolve face on. Crap on a cracker. Wait, I'm in France. Crap on a baguette.

"Hey, hey, hey; watch it with throwing that "Lavelle" around. Fine, I'll tell you." I really should tell her.

"Well?" Can't stand up to the resolve face. I tried. I failed. Dammit.

"I'm gay." Quick. Like ripping off a band-aide except without the whole lost of body hair that goes with it. Willow smiled.

"Xander, just because you've had a bad track record-"

"Wills, I've had an _abysmal_ track record, every girl I've gone out with is dead and most were demons . . . except for Coredelia who was a uberbitch when I was dating her and Anya who was an off and on again demon and Renee who was a slayer which is sorta demonish but that's not the point! It has nothing to do with the point, in fact. And I'm babbling. At the very least, I'm bisexual."

"Xander-"

"Look, I'm-well, I've been seeing this guy for nearly a month and a half now." Willow looked confused and then she furrowed her brow like she was doing the math in her head.

"That was right around Renee died."

"A few days after actually. The day Emma died to be precise." Like I'd ever forget that conversation. I seem to start a lot of relationships in closets. Cordelia, Spike . . .what does that say about me, anyway? "But I've known that I've liked him for awhile now. I just- Renee and Emma dying in the same week put things in perspectiveve for me. He grew on me. Like a parasite. A tick or a-a vampire!"

"It's Spike, isn't it?" Heh, say what now?

"Heh, say what now? How did you-?"

"Xander, I made the charms. Their magic doesn't work on me." She smirked. My sweet little Willow tree smirked! First Patricia, then Beledia, now Willow? Spike is a really bad influence. He should be stopped, after he gives me lots of orgasms of course . . .great now my mind is being taken over by Anya. Soon, I'll be doing the "I made money dance" and using the internet and romance novels to spice up my orgasms with Spike who Willow knows about. Who did I piss off in my past life to get this one? Ghandi?

"How-what-who-where-why?" My inner Spike is giving me the eyebrow which is synonymous with the finger. Well he can just go bite himself! NO I AM NOT PANICKING . . .no matter how much like it seems I am! I just need to switch to decaf!

"Calm down Xander. I won't tell Buffy. I already ambushed Spike and got him to explain everything."

"Do you know how he came back?"

"Yup."

"Hey! That's not fair! I'm the Scooby dating him! Even I don't know that!" I know I'm throwing a hissy fit, so just shut up. "Tell me?"

"Nope." Willow gave me an amused look.

"Come on, Wills! I'm your oldest and dearest friend and if it weren't for him then that whole mess with Cordelia and Oz would never have happened. Not to mention how he sold us out to Adam and what about-okay I got nuthin' but tell me! Please?"

"No. Xander, he'll tell you in his own time. Frankly, I don't see why he didn't tell you already." Now who's sounding like Giles?

"Now who's sounding like Giles?"

"Oh hush. So have you had sex with him yet?" I felt the by now familiar flush of a blush on my cheeks. "Because I'm really curious. Buffy and Anya never told me anything. You know just because I'm gay doesn't mean that I'm not curious and besides Spike seems like a-" My blush was threatening to cause spontaneous combustion.

"Stop! God, Willow! No, I haven't had sex with him yet, geez! We were planning to if we could ever, you know, have the time alone?" Willow giggled. "What is it with everyone and teasing me about sex with Spike?"

"Because you're easy." A deep, amused voice said from behind me. I practically jump when arms encircle me and a chiseled cheekbone scrapes across my bicep.

"Hey, mister, you haven't gotten into my pants yet." I can feel his face shifting along my arm as he turns to grin at Willow.

"Key word, pet, yet." He said. I wriggle away from him just enough to bop him on the head with a closed fist. He took the abuse with a waggle of his eyebrows at Willow. She laughed just as Buffy came out of the bathroom.

"What's so funny?" she asked. Willow gave me a look that clearly questioned me on if I wanted to tell Buffy. I turned to Buffy with a great air of importance.

"Buffy. I'm gay and dating a vampire. There I said it. It's out in the open. Now how about those lattes?" Buffy laughed. Hey, I told the truth.

"Nice try. But we can't stay."

"Right, no one's back at home base holding down the fort." Willow said, giving me a hug and surreptitiously holding out her hand for Spike to shake. Buffy gave me hug. I walked them out the backdoor and watched them take flight. Spike partially followed so that I met him halfway back in the hallway.

"I should be less surprised then I am that Red knew all along." He said. I pulled him into a hug. "Frankly, I'm glad they're gone."

"Why's that?"

"Sneaking around is for fledges and Peaches. It was never my style."

"It had to be good to see Buffy again though."

"Yeah. But it wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be. She looked good but she's not the one pulling at my heartstrings anymore, yeah?" I grinned. "Stop grinning like a buffoon. I didn't me you, you great sod, I meant Beledia." I knew better. I pull at his heartstrings. He likes me.

"Why, Spike you romantic you."

"Oh shut it, you great oaf." I grinned and leaned in to nip at his lips. He smiled and went to attack my lips. I pulled back and grinned some more. He followed, chuckling. It went like that a couple of times, a playful back and forth of kisses and nips until our lips finally sank into each other. I trapped him against the wall as his leg found a place between my knees and we ground together.

"Hem, Hem." A feminine voice said. I broke apart from Spike so fast I nearly fell. My three trainees stood in the hall with us.

"Well this is interesting." Patricia said.

"Uh, there's a very good reason behind all of this-" I started.

"We're horn-dogs." Spike interjected.

"Right! Wait! No!" Why is it that Spike likes to be so Spike when I'm trying to cover our asses? "That's not what this was!"

"That's right," Spike nodded wisely "It was foreplay."

"Exactly." I rewind in my head. "Wait, no! That's not right either. Spike, stop helping!" Not panicking, not panicking, soooo not panicking.

"Calm down, Xander, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Girls, get lost so I can shove my-" My hand was on his mouth so quickly that I re-slammed him into the wall. Somehow though, he still looked smug. His hand fell on my wrist and pulled my hand away easily. "My, my, my love, what bright red you are. Did I say something embarrassing?" He and the girls laughed as my face became redder.

"Shut up, Spike."

"Never." Impertinent vampire. "Seriously girls, go shopping or something."

"Spike, it's eleven' o'clock at night." Alex pointed out.

"So?"

"The shops aren't open."

"Go to a club then. Go party. You saved the world, you deserve a treat and I deserve mine." He leered at me. "Don't care, just leave." Ho-boy.

"Spike-" I start but Kenya interrupted me.

"We can all go to _Mama's_ house and have a sleepover there. I want to spend time with her and make sure she understands that I am happy being a slayer. It is like my life has meaning now and she should not worry about me."

"Great idea, Sugar Plum! Go do that. I want the house to ourselves tonight. Anyone left behind isn't going to get a wink of sleep." I receive the dubious honor of having another leer directed at me. And I say again, ho-boy.

"Great! And I can go with you girls!"

"Nice try, Xander, but you're staying here with me." Gulp. The girls left to beg Beledia to have a sleepover at her house and Spike pulled me into our bedroom. After a few minutes we hear the front door slam shut, leaving us alone in the house.

* * *

**_Author After Notes:_** Okay, Here's the thing. I'm not giving out hints for the next chapter as it will be smut. If you are not mature enough to handle it or the imagery of two guys having sex isn't your thing, _**SKIP CHAPTER 18!! THIS IS IMPORTANT!! CHAPTER 18 IS SMUT! DON'T READ IF YOU KNOW YOU SHOULDN'T!! THE INCOMING CHAPTER IS WHY THIS FANFICTION IS RATED M FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. I KNOW SOME OF YOU ARE UNDERAGED, PLEASE USE WHATEVER DISCRETION YOU HAVE AND WAIT FOR CHAPTER 19 FOR THE PICK-UP OF THE PLOT. THANK YOU!!**_

**French Translation**

_aller toute la nuit_- to go all night

_petit ami_- boyfriend

_tigre_- tiger

_cher_- dear

Reviews are lovely and so are the people who give them;

Tropic


	18. Zeniths with Vampires

_**Meetings in Sewers**_

_**By: **_**Tropicwhale**

_**Disclaimer: **_They are not mine. If they were, things wouldn't be the way they were in the final seasons. Joss Whedon owns all but for the plot and a few miscellaneous things like original characters and he ought to start looking after his property properly because they keep getting hijacked by strange fanpersons wearing "I LOVE SLASH" t-shirts which is just odd.

_**Warning:**_ **HOMOSEXUAL SMUT! PLEASE, I'm PROTECTING MY OWN ASS HERE, YOU ALL KNOW THE RULES OF THIS SITE BETTER THAN I. I DON'T WANT TO GET INTO TROUBLE BECAUSE SOMEONE WAS READING THIS WHO REALLY SHOULDN'T. THERE IS NO MAJOR RELATIONSHIP DEVELOPMENT BESIDES ON THE MUCH NEEDED PHYSICAL LEVEL, RETURN TO THIS STORY WITH CHAPTER 19. THANK YOU.** Also bad language. Turn back now if not your thing.

_**This chapter is dedicated to:**_ Goodfairy, Alwaysand, chezzeh

_**Feedback:**_I can has lots of feedback? Plez?

_**Author Notes:**_ I Have only one note for this chapter. **It's SMUT, PEOPLE. A healthy, mature, committed, romantic relationship has sex in it. It should, it is part of life. It's actually the reason behind life, procreation . . .unless there is two (or more) people who are engaging in the act that are of the same sex and then it is a symbol of commitment between them . . .or porn. I would like to think that this chapter falls under the former as a symbol of commitment between Spike and Xander and that is what you should be taking away from this. **

* * *

**Chapter 18:  
**_Zeniths with Vampires_

I stare at Xander and can smell the nervousness rolling off him. He stares back at me with the look of an animal who is cornered and is weighting the options of bolting or fighting. I inhale deeply and sharply. "Look, we don't have to do this right now." Xander looked shocked and embarrassed. Then there was that roiling burning electric smell of embarrassment and shock that confirmed the visual. He knows how much I want this but I refuse to attempt anything if he isn't ready for it. It's not like I don't have the time to wait until he is, right?

"No!!" Xander sort of leaps forward. "I want to! Really, I do!! It's just – I'm just- "

"Nervous." I finish. A fact, not a question.

"Yeah." He gives me this apologetic look like he has something to apologize for.

"Don't trust me to take care of you?" Xander shrugged.

"Not completely." I laugh a little. Good answer.

"Good, that's smart. I haven't proven myself to you . . .yet." I put an inflection into my words that causes a visible shutter to run through the man in front of me. I can hear his heart pound erratically, his breathing speds up. "What if I promised to take care of you?" His heartbeat rate increased and I know he got the thousands of secret promises that was in that question.

"If you promised?" I nodded carefully. He was relaxing.

"To take care of you." There was a moment where he thought about it. Funny how a single moment in time balances you on a precipice that decides so much of your existence. Those Events that you're never prepared for. This one is definitely up there on my list which includes the death of my brother, my turning, and meeting Buffy. One word from Xander and-I don't even have an idea of a clue about what could happen. . .

"Okay." And then we were kissing. His arms wrap around me as I walk him toward the bed. Shirts fly off, skin is grazing against skin in tantalizing suggestions and my fingers are busy undoing his pants as our mouths clash together. My fingers dip into his boxers and fist his half-hard penis. He freezes, gasping, and immediately loses the battle our mouths are waging. I press into him a little more and he loses his balance and falls onto the bed. I crawl on top of him watching his eye watch me. He licks his lips, apprehensively, and I can't resist. I bend in for a kiss set on devouring him from his mouth down. His hands are everywhere, lending a trail of warmth were there isn't any naturally. I move my mouth to his neck and nibble at his pulse point. Give him a hint at how a vampire bite can give pleasure and not just pain. He thrashes under me, grabbing my hair and side in an iron grip. I grin against his skin. I lick at the bruise that is already forming and move south to give it a brother on his collarbone.

He gasps and moans and bitches wordlessly. I lick him again. There is no way I'm going to rush this. He's going to crave my body, my touch for the rest of his life, I can promise that. I move lower on his body and catch a nipple in my teeth resisting the urge to let my true face to the fore when I feel the pulse of hot coppery blood right below the surface of his skin. I lick the nub until it pebbles and he moans "Spike, god, please Spike!". I love foreplay, it's always fun. If you're really good at it it'll last all day. A touch here, a kiss there and by the time you get to the bedroom at the end of the day they're ready for you, wet and hard-up, begging you to finish them.

"Please what? Patience, pet, is a virtue after all." I give the other nipple the same attention I gave its brother and watch as his head slams back into the mattress. I chuckle darkly and curl my hands around the waistline of his pants and trousers and yank hard. I'm standing again and Xander's completely naked on the bed, his cock hard and arching, his legs hanging over the bed at the knee, bruises starting to form on his neck and clavicle. He looks thoroughly debauched and I haven't even begun the fun stuff yet.

"Spike-!" he whines. God, he's pushy.

"Patience, Xan."

"Fuck patience." I laugh and drop my pants. His eye gets wide. I make to lie back down on top of him, grinning like a madman, but change my mind at the last minute and lay next to him. He turns his head to look at me and then rolls to his hands and knees and moves up to the head of the bed. He collapses face down and spreads his legs.

Well, that was unexpected. I raise my eyebrows looking at all that naked flesh. "If you're going to fuck me, fuck me." he states thickly. Ah, that's it. I inhale deeply. He's aroused alright, but underneath that there's fear and hesitation. Good thing that I have a brilliant plan to counter all that. A plan that _will_ work, mind you. Unlike most of my other plans. What can I say? I was young. Granted that last bad plan was last week but that's beside the point, yeah?

"Xander, look at me." He does. "Roll onto your side." He does. "Trust me to take care of you." He nods. I position myself to where my face is in his groin and my groin is in his face. The bitter spicy smell of nervousness increased. "Now I just want you to do to me what I'm doing to you. Think you can handle that?" He nods, licking his lips. I give him a half smile as I scoot closer to the blooming organ in front of me and wrap my arm around his flank to hold him in place. After a moment he mirrors my movement. It's then that I realize something. "Oh and if you need to breathe, and you probably will," he chuckles a little breathlessly "just pull back or breathe through your nose, don't wait for me to pull back or anything."

"Okay." And I'll be damned to an eternity in suburbia hell if the breathlessness of his voice doesn't make my cock jump and harden further. I dip my head to lick and nibble the base of his hard-on, sucking when he catches on and returns the favor. For every move he makes in mirroring me I move on, pulling back bit by bit to reach his head, leading his mouth to a matching position on my anatomy. His cockhead is an angry sort of red, dripping fluid, and pointing at my nose accusingly. I lick at the salty fluid and draw my lips around the organ. After a second, Xander does the same thing. His dick rest heavily on my tongue and it, as well as the mouth that is on my penis is scorching hot, just enough heat for me to handle pinpointed in the most sensitive areas of my body. He moans and his tongue wriggles as he swallows convulsively. My dick jumps at the movement and I am forced to up my agenda for fear of coming too quickly. I wrap my free hand around the base of his cock and suck on him, drawing him deeper into my mouth, every heavy inch of him. He does the same to me. The sensation is enough for my eyes to roll back into my head. The hand that I have wrapped around his thigh slides down and grabs a handful of ass to pull him closer to me and deeper into my mouth. He does the same but with much greater force. I resist the urge to throw my leg over his head and shoulders to rut into his mouth. I have to pull back and the hand that was wrapped around him massages his balls as I play with his head. I spread my fingers along his butt to play with his crease and grazes over his opening. It convulses at the touch and I grin around the piece of flesh in my mouth and suck harder. Xander takes the bait and tries to shove his finger up my ass. I pull back and away from him. Embarrassment and alarm rolls off of him.

"Hey, if you want to stick anything up my ass use lube, yeah? I'm finicky about being dry fucked." I tell him. I twist around and grab the tube of lubricate off the end table and handed it to him. He obeys the silent command and slicks up his fingers. I grab his oily hand and slicked my fingers with the excess, waste not and all that rot. I toss the lube to the end of the bed where it'll be in easy reach but faraway enough so it wouldn't get in the way and move to my former position of teasing the hell out of Xander Harris. He starts up mirroring me but, while I continue to play with his ass, teasing, he goes right for the finish line. His finger curls inside of me just right while his mouth goes to town on my cock. I moan around his erection but am forced to pull back and rest my head on his thigh for some much unneeded air. Soon, another finger is added to my rectum and another. Xander is mindlessly finger fucking me while he makes a valiant attempt at deep-throating. Heat and arousal helix in my stomach as I grab his thighs like my unlife depends on it. His skin smells of sweat and that darker, thicker honey-sweet smell of arousal. "Xan-" My throat feels dry from the increased air that I've been sucking in. I swallow and try again. "Xander. Xander, stop, luv. I'm going to blow if you don't." Xander swallows, curls his fingers deeper inside of me in that perfect place, and hums around my cock. My vision whites out, my arms and fingers grip his legs instinctively and I groan into his skin, listening to his blood rush under the surface. After a few moments, we disentangle and I pull myself up into a position not unlike sitting. He's lying on his back, sweat-slicked and hard. I grab his dick and stroke it once with my lubed hand (that was just waiting for this) to get that tired, debauched, goofy smugness off his face and straddle him. I position myself and slam down onto his erection and start to fuck myself with his thickness. Xander's face was a mixture of surprise, horniness, and ecstasy. After a minute his hands wrap around my waist and he starts to counter my movement with an undulating motion that was like riding a boat or a bucking horse, but so much more fun. Xander stared at my face and bit down on his lower lip in concentration. He shifted suddenly, his fingers tightening on my hips, and then his knees were up against my back. He dug in his heels and thrust upward going deeper inside of me, I leaned back against his raised knees and pressed down sending his deeper still with a growl. The air was filled with pants, growls, groans, and moans as we tried to race each other to the finish. As it was he got me coming first before following me over the edge of climax.

Afterwards, we lay side by side panting up at the ceiling. I grin suddenly and laugh. Xander looks over at me. "What?"

"She was right." I say, laying my hand on my stomach, the other behind my head.

"Who?"

"Anya. She said you were a Viking in bed." He laughed too and then rolled over and kissed me. Our lips and tongue dueled lazily and a warm hand rested on my hip and thigh. He pulled back slightly.

"Ready for round two?"

* * *

**_Author After Notes_**: That was hard to write. I must have gone through at least four different versions trying to find a place between what I wanted to happen which was Spike bottoming out for Xander's sake, the rules of ff, and making sure it was still good. I think that I went a little over what the rules state for this sort of thing. Actually I know that I went over but really I couldn't bring myself to pull it back anymore than I did without risking the structural integrity of the chapter, not to mention that I could have been much more graphic than I was and there was a lot of things I didn't do that I could have. And that is all I'll say in my defense.

Tropic


	19. Catfights in Safehouses

_**Meetings in Sewers**_

_**By: **_**Tropicwhale**

_**Disclaimer: **_They are not mine. If they were, things wouldn't be the way they were in the final seasons. Joss Whedon owns all but for the plot and a few miscellaneous things like original characters and he ought to start looking after his property properly because they keep getting hijacked by strange fanpersons wearing "I LOVE SLASH" t-shirts which is just odd.

_**Warning:**_**.** Bad language. Relationship talks. Violence. Turn back now if not your thing.

_**This chapter is dedicated to:**_ Alwaysand

_**Feedback:**_I can has lots of feedback? Plez?

_**Author Notes:**_ Second to last chapter before the epilogue. Oohhh, I'm so nervous! Oh and there will be a sequel. It won't be up for a while because I have other projects I need to work on desperately and, let's face it, you lot are just not important enough for me to put them off any longer. Just kidding, sort of. So enjoy and keep a weathered eye on the lists for the sequel.

* * *

**Chapter 19:**  
_Catfights in Safe houses_

I woke up to the morning sounds of traffic and the girls making breakfast. Spike was lying next to me, sprawled with his mouth hanging open, asleep. I'm forced to grin. Spike is like a cat, he takes up more space then he should be physically able to lying down. I sidle up to him and kiss him on the spot below his ear where his jaw meets his neck. He hums, half asleep, and next thing I know I'm pinned to the bed with a limpet-Spike. He rubs his leg along mine and mumbles unintelligibly in his sleep.

"Sparkles are smushing the cake batter, stop them." I roll my eye.

"Faker."

"Cake batter." He snuggles into me a little more. Okay, if that's the way he wants to play it. It's been several weeks, a couple of months, since the incident with the Grimmoire and Beledia and ever since Spike and I started having sex he tends to play these little games with me in order to keep me in bed and to start something sexually. The cake batter comments are new though. Usually it has something to do with sausage and berries or bowling balls . . .he's somewhat unimaginative.

"S'mores. They're attacking." I deadpanned.

"Mmm, save the hot dogs." And he grabs my dick. See? I told you.

"Spike, cut it out. The girls are right outside."

"Mmm, fighting breakfasts of death."

"Well they _are_ slayers."

"Hungry."

"There's blood in the kitchen."

"Blood's in here too." And he lunges half-heartedly at my neck. I pull away.

"No. Bad puppy. No soup for you." He remains attached to me.

"Don't want soup. Want blood. Want you." He lunges again at my neck. I know that he's not going to bite me but if he gets his mouth on me we're not going to ever leave the bed. His hand is stroking me to fullness and if that continues I'm not going to have the nerve to resist.

"Spike, stop." I order and roll off the bed. It hurts but it gets me away from the cuddling vampire. I look up and Spike's staring down at me with his blue, blue eyes surrounded by all the white sheets.

"Xander? What are you doing on the floor?" he asks like he's five years old, like he had nothing to do with the events that landed me here. I sit up to lean back against my arms to look up at him.

"I am on the floor because I got tired of having a parasite stuck to my side. I managed to leave it on the bed when I moved."

"What! With me?" Spike was suddenly on top of me on the floor. "Have you no concern over your lover's wellbeing that you would leave him in bed with a parasite?" He positions himself straddling my lap with his arms wrapped around my neck, covering us both with the blanket.

"If my lover wasn't the parasite in question he would realize that he was better equipped to deal with the problem by himself instead of worrying about following me everywhere."

"That's just cold."

"What can I say? You steal the blankets. Now move." Spike rolls his hips so that I'm getting a lap dance. "Not what I meant, Spike."

"I know. Little extra. If you slip me a twenty I'll blow you." He whispered into my ear, never once stopping the movements of his hips.

"Like I can't get that for free anyway." I snorted. He settles down to kiss me. I shift to get more comfortable and wrap my arms around him. He pushes me to the floor, his lips never leaving mine. We grind together feeling the arousal build around us like the blanket that Spike is using to shroud us. I lie down and then roll on top of him, sliding our pelvises together. He hums/moans smugly. I want more. I want to give him hickeys to match the ones he loves to give me in places that are hard to hide. I want to send him spiraling into lust, as I drill into him, screaming my name. I kiss him hard, teeth and tongue demanding. My hands slide down and grab under his knees to pull him closer to me. He makes this aroused little sound that is part way between a growl and a chuckle, approval of what I'm doing. Suddenly our bedroom door opens and Patricia sticks her head in.

"Breakfast is-Whoa! Did not need to see that. Breakfast is ready, you can eat when you're done, bye!" She spoke very fast and obviously got an eyeful and left as quickly as she appeared. Spike looked smug. He arches up against me and tries to press my head down to resume our activities. I pull away. That's more than enough for now and I'm hungry.

"Spike, enough." He pouts but lets me go anyway. I stand up and hunt down a pair of boxers and sweats. He's still sprawled out on the floor, with the comforter and a half-hard penis. "Flashing the girls once a day . . .once a month is more than enough, Spike. Get dressed." I throw him his pants and a shirt. It's green. Patricia bought it for him so of course he wore it. He pulls it over his head and has to reach for the pants because I didn't throw them far enough. I grab a shirt of my own. "You know, before you showed up I was _Giles_ to them. They didn't know what I looked like naked and they didn't want to know. Now they've all seen way more than they should."

"Yeah. But admit it. With me around its way more fun."

"With you around its way more insane." We finish dressing and I help Spike stand up.

"Insanity is a good thing."

"Says the ex-crazy vampire who dated Drusilla."

"I don't date. I was in love with her. She was my lover, my mother, my friend. The connection I had with Dru defies mortal convention. It's one of those things you have to experience in order to understand, Xander."

"And it's something I have no intention of ever understanding, Spike."

"What? Don't want to spend eternity at my side?" he jokes.

"Nope, one lifetime of you is _more_ than enough." The words left my mouth before I knew what I was saying. I rewound in my head. Did I just imply that I wanted to spend the rest of my natural life with Spike? By the shocked look on his face I'd say that I think that I did.

"Did you just-?" He half-asks.

"I think so." I said carefully.

"That's what I thought." He starts to leave the room.

"Wait! Aren't we going to talk about it?" I asked. He turned around with a guarded expression.

"Do you want to?"

"Not really. It kind of slipped out."

"I see."

"I mean, we've only been together for what? A few months! It'd be really weird and awkward to start talking long term commitment. I mean if we start talking long-term we'd end up breaking up by the end of the year and then we'd be all awkward like Angel and Buffy and I don't know if you'd be the Deadboy in the relationship or I am either way either of us being compared to the Great Broodful Boy is a bad thought, a bad, bad thought. And bad thoughts and all things leading to bad thoughts like relationship talks and Giles naked should in fact be squelched before they reach critical mass and form bad thoughts because bad thoughts are bad thus why they're called bad thoughts. Am I right or am I right? I mean . . .I don't know what I mean and am really wishing for you to do or say something to stop my mouth because I really wanna stop talking and you're just standing there with your arms crossed and all 'grrr' without being you know "GRRR" and looking really pissed at me and I'd wish you would just say something! SPIKE!"

"Are you done?"

"I hope so?"

"Then let's go get breakfast and discuss it later, okay? There's no use even trying to think about all of that nonsense you just spewed without some form of nourishment." And he walks out. He really does have every right to be pissed at me.

I walk out of the room meekly. The girls are all sitting around randomly eating breakfast. Patricia, who is sitting at the bar, hands me a plate of eggs, bacon and some sort of weird soufflé thingie that Kenya makes on occasion. I sit and watch Spike through the pass-through warming up his pig's blood (we ran out of human at the moment) and putting random spices and cereals in it. "Spike, we good?" He turns to me and looks me straight in the eye.

"I said we'll discuss it later."

"What's amatter?" Patricia asks. "When I walked in on you two you were in the middle of sex."

"Actually we were about to have sex." Spike corrects her. "And it's none of your business. Right, Xander?" I feel horrible. He's pissed and he's all 'grrr' because of it and it's all my fault. Poor Patricia shouldn't be on the receiving end of that look. The disapproving keep-your-nose-outta-my business look that Spike's glaring. I should.

"Right." I play with my food. It doesn't look as appetizing as it should. What is with me and saying exactly the wrong thing? Now I'm going to lose Spike because I'm saying things that I don't mean to say. I don't want that.

"Spike, quit being an ass." Patricia orders suddenly. "I was just curious and there's no need to snap at me. So just drink your pig's blood and be quiet." I look at her. Spike look at her. Kenya and Alex, who are sitting on the couch, look at her. "What? I didn't deserve to be snapped at." She said.

"I know." Spike says and then shakes his head to clear it. "I'm sorry, it's just you never say things in that tone."

"Yeah" Alex added. "You're our meek and mild Patricia. You never tell anyone off. It was kinda badass" Patricia blushs and looks down.

"I wasn't trying to be." She was suddenly Patricia of a few months ago before Spike came and coaxed her out of her shell. It was suddenly very apparent to me how far she's come in such a short while.

"Why not?" Kenya spoke up. "Spike was being rude and you just asked a simple question. It is a good thing, Patricia. Nothing to be embarrassed about." Patricia shrug. I pat her on her shoulder.

"Can we please move on now?" She ask. It was very obvious that she was freaked by all the attention she was receiving.

"The new girls should be arriving today." I say. "Which means, Alex, you are going to have a roommate."

"Or you can put them both in Emma's old room and let me keep my room my room."

"Or clear out one of the storage rooms and get rid of some junk of the last Paris squad." Kenya adds. "There is more than enough room for everyone."

"That's actually a good idea. Do you want to start that after breakfast?" I ask them.

"Sure."

"Why not?"

"Okay."

"Spike, why don't you help them?" He gives me a look.

"And what are you suppose to do?"

"I'm going to pick them up from the airport, unless you want to? Pick up the strange slayers who don't know you? In the daylight? Without a French license?"

"I'll help clean out the spare rooms." He said.

"That's what I thought." He gulped down his blood and left the mug in the sink without rinsing it out. Pig.

"Best get started then, yeah?" and he disappeared upstairs.

"I'd better go." I head to the front door. I hear the girls talking over breakfast.

"EROW!" Alex imitated a cat yowling. "Catfight."

"That _was_ weird." Kenya offers. "What do you think they are fighting about?"

"I don't know. They seemed so happy and into each other when I went to remind them about breakfast." Patricia said. "It feels weird, like when my father left my mother for another man. It doesn't feel right, them fighting."

"They are always bickering." Kenya reminds her. "Like an old married couple. They have argued since Spike arrived."

"Remember how he beat us all up?" Alex sounds practically reminiscent. "We could totally take him now. If we work together."

"We're a team now that's for sure." Patricia states. "It seems time that our squad was completed."

"Yeah, wonder what the two new girls are going to be like." Alex wonders.

"I am not sure but you do realize what this means, right?" Kenya asks.

"What?"

"That we need to elect a new squad leader and that Xander will be moving on to an new location, and if Xander leaves so will Spike." There was silence.

"Maybe that was what the fight was about?" Alex asks in a small voice. "Spike doesn't want to leave us yet? If they break up, do you think that Spike will stay here with us?"

"No, he'd take the Grimmoire and go back to California." Patricia told her. "There's no need for him to stay here. We have Beledia."

"Either way we lose them both, don't we?" Alex says. "Well that sucks."

"You said it." Kenya agrees. "I will miss the pranks and jokes."

"I'll miss the random nudity." Alex adds salaciously.

"Don't be crude, Alex." Patricia scolds gently.

"What will you miss, Patricia?" Alex questions.

"Them." I listened to them head up the stairs to help clean the spare rooms out. I start to head out. I open the door and there are two girls standing on the front steps of the house, one with her fist raised to knock. They both held suitcases.

"Hello." I say.

"Bonjour!" a curly haired girl said brightly in a warped version of French.

"Hola." The other girl, with long, thick, straight black hair and ample curves said less enthusiastically.

"Is this-uh-?" The first girl looked to the second for assistance.

"Maria LeBeau's residence." The other girl assists.

"Come in, girls." I say. "I was just coming to pick you up from the airport, how did you find your way here?" They come in and I close the door.

"More than necessary directions from Senorita Rosenburg. I am Maria Belicia Calida Valencia Ramona Guerrero, I hail from Madrid, Spain and you may call me Calida."

"I'm Mary. I'm from Toronto, Canada." Well that would explain the weird accent to her French. The brown hair girl said. "Don't mind Cal too much. She's overly strict on herself and others." I shook both their hands.

"I'm Xander Harris. Please call me Xander. We don't put too much stock in strict rules here but be respectful of everyone and we'll get along find." Calida sniffed at that. Mary smiled. "Come in." I invited and led them into the living room. "If you're hungry then there is some left over breakfast, some bacon and sweet cake? I think. Everyone's upstairs, helping to clean out the spare rooms. We've been such a small group that we've been using them for storage. That's the kitchen and the one bathroom. Ask Kenya or one of the others to explain the rules about that. My bedroom is down the hall and down that other hall is the backdoor and the practice room. And this is the living room. It's small but we're all pretty nice people so there are rarely any problems. So in short welcome to the Paris squad. Make yourselves at home." I jog upstairs and duck into one of the spare rooms. "Hey! Guess who I found on our doorstep?" Kenya, Alex, and Patricia looked up at me. Spike continued to sort through stuff.

"The ghost of Jim Morrison." he grouses.

"Our new slayers. Come down and meet them."

"What are they like?" Alex asks.

"The one is really bubbly like you and the other one is a cross between Kenya and Emma."

"Oh dear, that might be a problem." Patricia says.

"It might be but we'll work around it." I assured her.

"Xander." Kenya states.

"Yeah?"

"We took a vote. By majority and not including Spike-"

"He kept voting for nudity." Alex offers. Spike smirk into the box he was rummaging through.

"We decided that Patricia is our new squad leader. Of course Alex and I will be by her side for everything but she's ready for it."

"Not really, but I was outvoted." I smile at my girls.

"That is brilliant. Patricia, I'm sure you'll be great."

"Yeah, Bubbles, you're stronger than you realize." Spike added, throwing stuff over his shoulder into a trash pile.

"You're just saying that so I'll do all the heavy lifting." Spike raised his eyes to give her a deadpan look, one I was very familiar with, one that asked if she would doubt his honor.

" Of course, luv. But you can hand my ass to me so that counts for something, yeah? Go meet your new squadmates. I need to talk with Xander alone."

"Let me introduce everybody and I'll be right back up." He chooses now to talk about our relationship? No way am I gonna fall for that without fighting for it.

"Alright." He goes back to sorting items from the box. I showed the girls downstairs where Cal and Mary are sitting at the barstools. The two new girls stand and stand more or less at attention.

"There's no need of that." I tell them. They ignore me and stare at the Paris squad.

"Who is the squad leader?" Calida asks. Kenya steps forward.

"Before we answer, tell us, how do we know you are not with Twilight? Bare your chests." Say what now?

"Excuse us?" Calida growled.

"No." Alex stepped forward, looking every inch a Slayer. "Strip completely. Twilight's brand could be anywhere on their bodies. I don't think we could take the risk. He's already messed with Beledia's mind and almost ended everything. She's someone we trust. We don't know you so strip."

"What's the meaning of all this?" I ask. I have to. My girls have gone crazy!

"We found a journal of one of the last Paris squad, Xander." Patricia says. "Twilight had his hooks in one of them. A girl named Susan. She wrote about having to betray the others. She slit their throats one by one in their sleep. Made it look like a vampire. The more they lost, the more they trusted each other, trusted her. She killed the last of them, burned the body, phoned in the destruction, and then killed herself. The last entry in her diary was a suicide note. She couldn't live with what she had done. She warns of the Grimmoire as well. So we decided not to trust any slayer we don't know. Strip. Xander get out. We can afford to give them semi-privacy of not having you leering at them."

"I don't leer. Spike might but I don't."

"Spike's a bad influence." Patricia grinned, without looking away from the two newcomers.

"Fine." I walk halfway up the stairs. "Just play nice." I go up and into the spare bedroom to help Spike clean while keeping an open ear for any trouble downstairs. "Hey." I sat down at a box across the room from my boyfriend.

"Hey." He throws something over his shoulder. "Keep journals, picture frames, and clothing. Any books that are research books we keep, all others go into the donate pile by the door." He indicates a growing pile of books, mostly romances and graphic novels, by the door.

"Alright." I open up the box in front of me and start sorting. There was a few moments of silence during which I got more and more twitchy. "I'm sorry alright?" I look up at the vampire across the room.

"Wot was that?" He looked like he didn't know what I was talking about.

"'Bout what I said in the bedroom earlier," I shrug. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I know."

"You do? But-" I'm feeling a little uncomfortable. Spike must be really pissed at me. CRASH!! BANG!! BOOM!! I stand and race out the room and down the stairs. "WHAT IS GOING ON DOWN HERE?" Patricia and Calida were slugging at each other in a full on catfight. Mary, Kenya, and Alex were pressed next to the stairs and they turned their attention from the fight to look at me. Thankfully, both Calida and Mary were dressed.

"Calida questioned Patricia's ability to lead." Alex told me.

"They asked about Emma." Kenya added. There was a loud splintering noise as Patricia and Calida crashed into and broke an end table.

"Wow." I stare. "I haven't seen a fight this bad since Buffy versus Faith. It's going to take me forever to clean up. You three get upstairs and clean out the spare room and then go clean Emma's room. I'll deal with this."

"How?" Alex asks. The other girls nod.

"Cold water and if that doesn't work I'll pull a page out of Spike's book."

"Oil and a digital camera?"

"Yup." I point upstairs and wait until they disappear up them to enter further into the battlefield. I waited until both girls regain their feet to grab them by their shirts and slam them into the nearest wall, making sure Patricia was on my blind side. What can I say? I saw an opportunity to stop them and I took it . . . Spike really is a bad influence. "ENOUGH!!" The girls go lax in my hands. "What happened." Statement not a question.

"She attacked me." Calida stated.

"She insulted me and my squad." Patricia snarled back with just as much venom. "What happened to Emma was an accident and involved a Shournlach demon. I wasn't myself and I'm no monster."

"I don't want a _murderer_ leading me into battle. Whose idea was it?"

"We voted on it. I would've taken the job unless everyone said that I should."

"They were deceived. Maybe you should take off your shirt, show us your body's pure."

"You know nothing about us! I was the weakest of them. I would have never-" She shrugged off my grip and got into Calida's face. She pointed at the other girl. "They are my friends and sisters. I would give up my life to protect them and you and Mary and Beledia and Xander and Spike and you. If you doubt my intentions then the door is that way." She pointed to the front door. "You are welcome to use it at any time and I'll phone HQ to send a replacement. End of story." She walked toward the stairs. "Now, if you're staying help us clear out your room." Calida stared at her with wide eyes.

"Whose Spike and Beledia?"

"Beledia is your new Watcher and Kenya's mother. Spike is my boyfriend and a vampire who happens to have a soul and is a Champion for Good." I tell her and let her go.

"You will not attempt to pull what you just attempted on me on them, ever. Got it?" Patricia looked deadly serious. Calida nodded and ran upstairs. Patricia let out her breath and smiled shakily. "Did I do alright?" I laugh.

"You did wonderful." I give her a hug. "You also get the dubious honor of helping me clean up this living room." I hold her in a one arm grip. She looks around at the mess she and Calida made.

"I'll get the broom and the toolkit." She walks down the hall to the linen closet.

"Tool_box_. It's called a tool_box._"

* * *

**_Author After Notes_**: There's only one chapter to go and then the epilogue. And Spike has his own comic to both things I say, respectfully, IT'S ABOUT BLOODY TIME!! Review!!

Loving reviewers at a friendly distance (as always);

Tropic


	20. Endings in Stories

_**Meetings in Sewers**_

_**By: **_**Tropicwhale**

_**Disclaimer: **_They are not mine. If they were, things wouldn't be the way they were in the final seasons. Joss Whedon owns all but for the plot and a few miscellaneous things like original characters and he ought to start looking after his property properly because they keep getting hijacked by strange fanpersons wearing "I LOVE SLASH" t-shirts which is just odd.

_**Warning: **_Bad language. Relationship talks. Implied sex. Turn back now if not your thing.

_**This chapter is dedicated to:**_ all my reviewers and my readers both loyal and new. We shared something special and now it is through.

_**Feedback:**_I can has lots of feedback? Plez?

_**Author Notes:**_ So here it is . . . the last chapter of "Meetings in Sewers". I said I'd say it so I'm saying it. It's been a good ride. I thank all of you for keeping the life in this thing; without you it-actually I'd probably still be writing it but it wouldn't have been finished as quickly as it was without your support. I know that sounds really hokey and cliché but I'm surprised to say it's true. I enjoyed waking up to the days when a new review was in my inbox and sitting down for a few minutes each day hammering out this story. There were some rough patches and I am grateful to have readers that are unafraid to tell me when my writing is a little weak but loyal enough to keep coming back. This has been a learning process for me that I'll not soon forget. There will be an epilogue but without all the fun little comments I usually make. Thank-you.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty:  
**_Endings in Stories_

So there are some really weird things about dating Scoobies. They're cloyingly optimistic, have this inner beauty that shines through in the darkest moments, and they're human. That last can be a bit of a curse sometimes. Take Xander. The puppy dog grin, the amazing sex (really, really amazing sex, I'm not just saying that), and the fact that, for a human male, he's annoyingly in touch with his feelings (it probably has something to do with the fact that all his best friends are female). But when it comes to his insecurities, he tends to-oh what is the phrase I'm looking for-get on my ever-lovin' last nerve! Bloody Hell! Why did he have to bring up that long-term crap? And to make matters worse he babbles about it revealing more then I think he realizes he did. What? Didn't catch all the nuance-y stuff? Let me break it down for you then. He's afraid that he'll end up like Buffy or his parents, alone and dead on the inside. He's worried that we'll have this big whorl-wind romance and then break up in the worse possible way leaving him without any more options for happiness _ever_. He's placing all that fear of pain, the insecurity of being alone on my shoulders like I can bleeding do something about! I can't! I'm not that kind of guy! I can't promise him tomorrow! I can promise him eternity but not always by my side. I can barely-GRRRARGH! It's not bleeding fair what he's asking of me! And with all the shit that's going on it's not like I can confront him and scream at him that he's being a ponce about the whole thing because that's the surest way to break his heart, the poof! And why do I bleeding care anyways?!

Oh, that's right. I have a soul and am one of the good guys now. Bugger. Things were so much easier when I was evil. Eat a few people, kill a couple more and then drown some cute little puppies, annoy Angelus and Darla a little, and fuck Drusilla all day long. Easy! Now, I have to deal with the insecurities of a bloody white knight in shining armour.

I suppose I ought to talk to him about it then. Right! I'll go do that. After I finish helping the mini-slayers clean. "Trash girl." I nod to the growing pile of trash. Alex moves in to collect it all in a bag and then moves on to the pile growing behind Kenya. Mary and Calida, who I was introduced to as "Xander's boyfriend, Spike", are sorting through another couple of boxes.

"How did an entire team die again?" Calida asked and threw a graphic novel into the pile by the door with a look of distain.

"They were murdered by one of their own." Kenya answered and then holds up a frame. "Picture. This is one of Susan's boxes. This little girl is probably her, which means this is her mother and father. This is her family." Alex looks over her teammate's shoulder. Mary, then Calida soon joined her.

"That little girl grew up to be a murderer." Mary said in awe.

"And a suicide." Calida murmured. I threw a couple of shirts onto the clothing pile and a piece of paper with the name 'Pierre' doodled all over it into the trash pile and move on to the next box.

"How could anyone take a life? Much less twelve including her own." Mary wonders. "I don't understand rogue slayers."

"Ask Patricia, she's cleaning up downstairs." Calida said.

"Do not talk about what you know nothing about." Kenya snapped. "If you want to know, go to the forums and look up the mission reports."

"Why does everyone get so aggressive around Patricia?"

"She's the best of us. And she's the most human." Alex told them. "Sensitive's the word. She's just started to heal from what happened in the catacombs that night, what that demon accomplished by using her. She thought she was a monster." Alex shook her red hair from her face. "Don't bring it up." I smirk into the box, throwing items in separate piles quickly and moving on to another box. I've been here for close to four months and these three girls have grown up so much in that time that I would never have pegged them as the three of the four that were making all that commotion in that sewer when Xander and I were reacquainted.

"What are you grinning at, Spike?" Kenya looks over at me.

"Remembering when we first met. Remember?"

"Barely." Kenya deadpanned. "I seem to remember hitting my head. In fact, I think the entire squad hit their heads." I grin at her. "It probably was your looks." I giggle. It was. It had nothing to do with the fact that I beat up a bunch of teenaged girls as funny as that was.

"It's not like you to be all introspective, Spike, what's wrong?" Alex canted her head. The new mini-slayers looked really confused. "Is it the fight you and Xander are having?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Are you sure?" The little redhead sounds mildly disappointed at my answer.

"Yep."

"Liar." Kenya states but when I look up she's nose deep into a storage bin, totally ignoring me.

"What did you say to me?" I ask. She mumbles into the bin, going a little deeper and flinging out a dozen or so old newspapers over her shoulder. "Kenya, that is a cheap and dirty tactic I'd expect out of Xander, not you. Get your head out of that bin and repeat what just said to me." Alex rolls her eyes.

"You sound like my father and she called you a liar." She tells me. My jaw drops in surprise.

"Take that back." I remember what Kenya called me. "Both of you."

"Sorry."

"Yeah, what she said." Calida is giving me a hard look. I look back at her neutrally.

"Wot?"

"What are you to this squad?" She asks bluntly.

"A friend." I go back to sorting stuff.

"But they defer to you like you are a Watcher." I snort in amusement. Me as a Watcher is ridiculous. The unbidden image of me in tweed from a few years back when Willow was having her troubles with magic oozed into my mind's eye. Ugh, bad image.

"I'm no Watcher. You'll just have to trust me on that." Alex grinned.

"He's more like a well-loved uncle. If Xander's like our daddy." There's a dirty joke in there somewhere, I'm almost positive. I chew on my lip as I find a bunch of long silk scarves. Now these have possibilities. The idea of my hands and legs tied to the bed with the silky things as Xander rams into me has merit, lots of merit. Hmmm. Lots of sex-based merit. "Spike," Alex has a questioning tone to my name "what did you find?" I look up at her with my innocent face firmly in place.

"Wot? Nothing."

"A second ago you looked like the cat that got the catnip, the cream, and the canary all in the same swoop. What did you find?" I shrug and grin.

"Oh nothing." I move the box and its contents of scarves over to the side. "But I'm keeping the contents of that box." Kenya snorted into her bin.

"Knowing Spike, it is probably porn. Probably lesbian porn." I'm affronted.

"No, it's not." Alex and Kenya share a look, look at me, and share another look.

"It's porn." They intone. I point at them as I grab another box.

"Now, that's not fair. It wasn't porn." Kenya gave me a hard look. Seem to be getting those a lot from these girls.

"Was it sex related?" she asks. Uh, duh.

"Yeah. But, I'm a bloke. Sex-related thoughts are sort of a given, yeah?"

"Were they about Xander?" Alex questions cheekily. I chuck a book at her that has her giggling.

"You're lucky you're across the room, chit." She stick her tongue out at me and I throw another book that clonks her on her head.

"Ow." She rubs the spot and pouts.

"Oh come on, it was a paperback. It didn't hurt you that much."

"I got a paper cut on my forehead." She sniffs dramatically.

"Aw, poor baby, would you like some salt and lemon juice for it?" I ask sincerely.

"You're so evil." I point at her.

"And don't you forget it." Alex pulls a face while Mary and Kenya grin at the floor show.

"There is something off about you." Calida says suddenly. "I cannot put my finger on it though."

"Might be that I'm a vampire."

"A vampire?!" Suddenly both Mary and Calida are standing with stakes in their hands.

"I am a good vampire. All tamed and housebroken and everything. Well, maybe not housebroken but still. I'm one of the good guys." They did not look convinced. "Can you put the lethal splinters away please?"

"Give me one reason why I should." Calida states imperiously.

"I will give you four." Kenya and Alex were suddenly between me and the new mini-slayers. "And we are two of them."

"The other two are downstairs." Alex added. She suddenly had a dagger in her hand while Kenya, at some point I missed apparently, had a pair of brass knuckles. Was everyone carrying weapons but me? Oh, wait. Nevermind. I have fangs. And super strength, speed and devilish good looks.

"You will back off now." Kenya sounded sure. "We will not let you hurt Spike." I have pretty girls defending me. Hmm. Every guy's dream. Of course I'd prefer it if they were wearing leather and carrying whips.

"This is a strange squad. A murderer for a squad leader. A vampire who is dating the Watcher. A Watcher that will be pretty much useless in the field, and a Slayer with a mother." Calida snorts. "This is all too ridiculous to be not true."

"Aw, bite me, slayer." I stand up. "You have caused nothing but trouble the moment you entered into this house. You know what happened to the slayer that thought she was better than everyone else? She died faster. Truth is that the connections these girls have formed with me and Xan are what keeps them alive. Worked with Buffy. It will work for you if you quite the 'I have a destiny and you are in the way' attitude so shut up and clean. Oh, and, unless you are going to use them, put the weapons away. All of you." Kenya and Alex obeyed the order quickly then Mary, then, reluctantly Calida. Mary raised her hand. "Wot?"

"You know Buffy?"

"I knew Buffy. Past tense. Back in Sunnydale. She's the reason I have a soul. Why I won't attack you." Calida frowned. I get the impression she does that a lot.

"You are the Spike of Sunnydale? William the Bloody?" She asks.

"One and the same, pet."

"You are suppose to be dust."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"How are you walking around?" I roll my eyes heavenward. What did I do? That question (and its variants) is starting to annoy me.

"Don't know. Don't care. Mojo is something I don't get into. I don't like it and I try real hard not to question it when it comes out in my favor."

"Xander didn't bring you back?"

"Please! Xander didn't even know he was still alive until a few months ago." Alex snorted.

"And you are already in a committed relationship? That is moving pretty quickly."

"Relationships are also something I don't like to look at too closely if they're going my way. I have a philosophy of 'if it works out for you, don't question it because it might go south on you'. Some people don't get that."

"Is that what you and Xander are fighting about?" Alex asks "He's being all anal retentive and examining your relationship and you don't want to?"

"Nope."

"But I'm close aren't I?" I give Alex a good, hard look.

"You know what? I'm going to ignore you and actually clean Emma's room. Bye!" I leave the room.

"YOU KNOW AVOIDANCE IS NEVER THE ANSWER!" She shouts at me. She's right, of course, except when avoidance is the answer. Some thoughtful soul had dropped off cleaning supplies in Emma's room and stripped the gauze curtains (the shutters were shut, blocking the sunlight) and the bedclothes to go down to the laundry. Which left me with a hell of a lot of dusting . . . or I could hunt down my avoid-y boyfriend and set a slayer to the job. Tough decision but not really. So I leave the cleaning supplies in the bedroom and head downstairs. What? You actually thought that I'd clean? There's bleach in a lot of cleaning products and bleach belongs in my hair not in my clothes. Period. End of story.

Shut-up. That did not make me sound like a girl. It didn't! This is a new shirt! Patricia gave it to me and I wouldn't want to ruin it. I get downstairs and motion Patricia over. "Go clean Emma's room. I'll help Xander down here."

"Why?"

"Bleach is bad." She raises her eyebrow at me.

"So your hair-"

"I meant on clothes. You want this shirt to get ruined? You bought it for me and if it gets bleach stains all over it then I'll have to go back to wearing all black." I swear she just growled at me.

"You know you're suppose to not be evil. You shouldn't threaten me."

"That mean you'll go clean out Emma's room?"

"Yeah." She growls at me again! I think that I might be a bad influence. Oh well. She pushes pass me to go upstairs, passing me the broom. I walk further into the room and raise my eyebrows at the destruction. Bubbles and the Spanish chit did all this? Remind me never to piss Patricia off. I look at the broom and sigh. Might as well use the pretense that I used to come down here. Besides the living room is a wreak. Every bit of furniture is broken except the two couches, the loveseat, the television, and a lamp. I can hear Xander rummaging in the kitchen for trash bags. I start sweeping sharp pieces of wood and porcelain into piles. He comes out while I have my back turn toward the kitchen. He stops and I can feel his gaze boring into my back. I swallow and inhale deeply.

"You know that you can't get rid of me that easily." I tell him as I sweep the remains of an end table and the knickknacks that it held into a pile. I hear his footsteps come up behind me and then he kneels down to start pulling wood shards into a black plastic bag.

"Where's Patricia?"

"Upstairs. Cleaning Emma's room out."

"It needs to get done I guess."

"Yeah." We clean for a bit in silence. I really don't know what to do here. This is our first fight as a couple. Holy-this is our first fight! That's a bit of a milestone. Wait, what are we fighting about anyway? Commitment. Granted he thinks it's a bad idea, not to mention that he is the king of Fear of Commitment and I'm the king of Commitment and Devotion to the one I love, but that's beside the point. This is the Big Fight. The one that decides whether or not we stay together. The make or break-up point. Ironically, it's about how long we stay together. And sadly, the whole thing is up to me. What? You think I'm just going to sit around on my ass waiting for Xander Harris to take the initiative to resolve this? I'm immortal, I only have forever to wait and that still isn't long enough for Xander Harris to make a decision! Now there are a few ways I can resolve this. If he were a girl I'd tell him it doesn't matter how long we were together just as long as we were together. You know, something cloyingly romantic that would make him go all soppy. Luckily, I don't have to do that. I could forget about it. Pretending it never happened and moving on is a viable option but a bad one. If we don't deal with this now it'll fester, destroying us later on. Or I can deal with this with tack and subtlety, which I'm no good at. Or I guess I could-

"OW!!" the smell of blood hits the air. I look down to see Xander pulling a piece of glass from a broken lamp out of his finger. I drop the broom and am at his side in a moment. "Ah." A blood vessel must have been hit because the blood is making its way down Xander's finger at an alarming rate. I grab his hand and stick his injured finger into my mouth. The metallic taste rushes over my tongue and sings down my throat. It's been too long since I've feed from a living person. I close my eyes and relish the taste and warmth. The blood flow is too soon stopped by the pressure of my mouth on it and I pull away. The blood had tasted of fear and arousal, spicy and sweet like their scents but much, much stronger. I happen to look up into his eye.

"Wot? Why waste good food? Besides, you can't deny it didn't turn you on a little. The truth is in the blood." Why am I defending myself? It was a perfectly natural reaction to nice, hot blood. So what if it's against the rules we laid out that day in the closet? It's not like we haven't broken all of the others at one time or another. So there! Xander leans over and kisses me gently on the lips. To barrow a popular Xanderism, Say what now?

"I'm sorry." He shrugs. "I don't know why I said all of that stuff."

"I do."

"Really?"

"You're afraid of commitment."

"No I-"

"No, you are but its okay." His face scrunches up in confusion. "I'm not." I kiss him hard. He doesn't have the benefit of tasting the truth of matters in blood, I have to show him. I pull back a half an inch. "This doesn't have to be the Big Fight. You know that, right?"

"I know."

"So why are we fighting?"

"Because I panicked."

"And what have we learned about you panicking?" He smiles.

"That it ends up upping the demon magnetism by about thirty notches." I grin.

"I'm a jealous type of guy."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Simple. I don't like the idea of you magnetizing any demons except for me. So, no panicking. That way lies badness and folly. Got it?"

"Got it. So we're not fighting anymore?" He pulls back.

"No. We're still in the fight. I'm just telling you to quit panicking so we can get pass it. And while we're on the subject quit being all avoid-y when you think I'm angry at you. It makes it harder for me to tell you I'm not when I bloody well can't find you." I stand up and brush myself off. Being surrounded by all that broken wood was making me a little nervous.

"Yeah, well, you can't blame me. You're short-tempered." He stands as well, his hands in fists.

"That's because I'm surrounded by idiots!"

"Are you calling me and my girls idiots?"

"Have you seen me get angry with them? No. You've only seen me frustrated with you. So, yeah, you're a bit of an idiot!"

"I'm an idiot? I'm an idiot?"

"Yes, you're an idiot. You're an idiot with a fear of commitment!" Our voices are getting raised and I hear the running footsteps of five teenagers coming down the stairs and into the living room.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Then why the fuck are you with me?!"

"Because I bloody well love you, you daft git!" Shit. Did not mean to say that that way. Hmm, how to get around that.

"Wha-?" He looks shell-shocked. I'm sure that I'm wearing an identical expression with twice the eye. Oh shut up. That wasn't mean. That was fact. I do have twice the eyes of Xander.

"I told you that it was a good investment to buy bulk bags of popcorn." Alex told the others. I glance over to see the entire squad eating out of a bag of popcorn. "Oh don't mind us." The red-head says. "We're just here for the floor show."

"Go upstairs." Xander and I say at the same time. They groan and head upstairs. Patricia stops at the bottom and opens her mouth "Go!" We're in sync again. She rolls her eyes and leaves.

"Anyways, back to the argument." Xander swings his head back to me. I turn and look at him. "What did you just say?"

"I called you a daft git."

"Before that."

"Called you an idiot with a fear of commitment."

"After that."

"An affirmation of the fact that I called you an idiot with a fear of commitment."

"After that but before you started in with the insults again." I pause. How to get around all this without blurting out everything like an idiot?

"I might have said 'because'."

"Because what?"

"Because I."

"Because you what?"

"Can't remember."

"Let me refresh your memory. I asked why you were still with me if I was such an idiot." There is no way I can answer that without it sounding soddingly romantic. I swallow and take a deep breath.

"I might have inferred that I find you attractive."

"What was your exact words?" He's not going to let me go on this one is he? I thought not.

"It might have been that I bloody well love you, you daft git."

"Sorry what was that?"

"Oh don't make me say it again! That's not fair!"

"After all the years of torment that you put me through back in Sunnydale? I think I deserve it. Years, Spike, years."

"I have a soul. If I was tortured anymore I'd be, well, Angel. Can we just go to bed and I can prove it to you there?"

"Spike, it's the middle of the afternoon."

"I'm naturally nocturnal."

"The girls are upstairs."

"We'll be quiet."

"We're in the middle of a fight about commitment."

"Angry sex is always fun."

"The living room is still a mess." His excuses are getting weaker. Which means I'm wearing him down.

"Not really. It's all in piles and we can bag it all later. Besides you're going to need lumber and are injured. I'm pretty sure we can play a game of doctoring the construction worker." I grab his hand and start dragging him to our room.

"Spike, this is so wrong."

"But it feels so right."

"Stop that." I slam him into our closed door.

"I love you." There. It wasn't shouted in frustration or said grudgingly in anger. I said it properly. What? You think that I didn't love him? I do. I just didn't want to tell him while we were in the middle of a gigantic fight. When I said it this time I made sure that he knew that I was serious. That I had meant what I said. Now it would totally suck if he didn't feel the same way about me. I have a lot of that. Cecily didn't think that I was worth the scum her maids scraped off of her shoes. Drusilla never did care about me the second Angelus walked into the room. Buffy only wanted me because I was there. I deserve more than all that.

"I love you too, Spike." Xander looks me in my eyes with his hands on my shoulders. I smell the unspoken 'but I'm afraid' that is under all of it. I open the door and we stumble to shut it behind us and lock it, taking off our clothes and getting to the bed; barely touching each other but never losing eye contact. We lay down with him on top and roll to lay side by side, touching each other's chests, arms, necks, and faces.

"New rule." I state "We take it day by day. Don't worry about forever. Don't worry about the future. We just take this day by day, alright?"

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Spike?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too." We kiss. We shag. We take it day by day.

* * *

**_Author After Notes: _**Stay tuned for the epilogue.


	21. Epilogue

**Meetings in Sewers**

_**By: **_**Tropicwhale**

_**Disclaimer:**_ They are not mine. If they were, things wouldn't be the way they were in the final seasons. Joss Whedon owns but for the plot and a few miscellaneous things and he ought to start looking after his property properly because they keep getting hijacked by strange fanpeople wearing "I LOVE SLASH" t-shirts which is just odd.

* * *

**_EPILOGUE_**

It's been several centuries since I was with Alexander Lavelle Harris. I've been with many others since him but he, like all the humans from that era of my existence, is illuminated in my memory more brightly than a piece of metal on sullen ground when sunlight hits it. I loved him. Still do. Bloody hell, I still have the protection charm he gave me. I was with him until the very end. That should please all the romantics out there. He was one hundred and two years old when he died. I laid next to him on his deathbed listening to his heartbeat fade and fall silent. He told me that he loved me. I said the same. I laid a kiss on his lips one last time and he was gone. I remember the first time we said "I love you", the first time we had sex together, our first (and last) date, the first drunken, fumbling kisses, and the first time we admitted that we wanted to pursue a relationship; all of which will hold a treasured place in my non-beating heart until the day I'm finally dust for good.

It is his memory that keeps me honest. His memory that allows me to see the good in people even when they're acting stupid beyond _all_ common reason. I'm still snarky, still bad but my moments with him have made me wiser and stronger. My crush on Cecily, my passion with Drusilla (who along with Angel is still around, by the way) and my obsession of Buffy crippled me and made me less than what I was capable of. Xander showed me that. I am forever grateful.

It wasn't all shiny and rose petals. We had our arguments, our moments of slugging at each other, of hurt feelings and, even worse, of hurt pride. But we stood by each other when the chips were down and that is what counts. Love is in the blood, people, blood screaming inside you to work its will. But it's more than that. It's a commitment and a lifestyle choice and I'm not just talking about who you're choosing to shag. It's a mark of maturity and self-reliance as much as anything else because, really, if you can't take care of yourself how can you hope to take care of others? True love is not for the faint of heart, people. I should know. I'm love's bitch and I'm definitely man enough to admit it.

The End

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Thank you all and good night (even if its morning or early afternoon)!

Tropicwhale


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